Royal Blood: The 110th Hunger Games
by MRKenn
Summary: In this new arena, the tributes are taken to what was formerly known as the kingdom of Great Britain. What was once a mighty country is little more than a foggy, haunted wasteland. Will the tributes wither away as Britain has, or emerge from the ruins? (SYOT Closed, but you can still enjoy.)
1. This Year's Batch

**Hi there! Maia here. If you've been reading some of my past updates, I'm so sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I've had horrific writer's block. But I have a proposal- a SYOT! I've been wanting to make one for a while, and I think I'm ready. So here's the prologue chapter, and I'll provide details at the end of this chapter. Sorry it's so short but I want to get to the point xD. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Fiorella Aloe, 36, President of Panem_

I prance through the velvety corridors of my palace, clutching an expensive glass of red wine. As I gingerly sip from it, I reach my destination; the elevator. An Avox, with alert green eyes full of worry and jet black hair, presses a button as I step inside.

"Top floor: the Rose Garden. Now!" I bark at the Avox, and her eyes well up with tears as she pushes an array of buttons as we dart upward. The trip takes less than three seconds as the sleek metallic doors slide open, revealing the gorgeous white roses, spreading for miles, and the young Head Gamemaker Prosperina Dew grins widely at me as I saunter over to her.

"Hello, Dew. I assume you are holding the plans for the arena?" I ask unintentionally coldly.

"Y-yes, my Lady. This year's arena is bound to be most interesting," she says breathlessly, pulling up a model of the arena on her tablet.

"Wonderful. This will up the entertainment factor this year for sure." I say, drinking the last of my warming wine.

"It most certainly will, Madam President. Full of surprises. I've made a copy of the tribute list for you." She hands me a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket. I observe the list, drinking in every last name.

"Excellent. This seems like an even better batch than last year's," I muse. "It wouldn't be nice to throw a surprise and not know who's on the receiving end, would it?"

"It wouldn't," echoes Dew. "Well, I have to get ready for the Reapings. I suppose I will see you at the chariot parade." I nod at her, and Prosperina Dew scurries off. I turn away, chuckling to myself. This Games will be truly special. Or at least I hope.

* * *

 _ **TRIBUTE FORM FOR THE 110TH HUNGER GAMES**_

Name: (be creative!)

District:

Gender:

Age:

Physical Appearance:

Personality: (give it your all! 5+ sentences please.)

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Weapon of choice:

Training score:

Allies: (if any)

Chariot Outfit:

Interview Outfit:

Bloodbath Strategy:

Games Strategy:

Quirks:

Anything else?

* * *

 **That's it! I am accepting tributes until December 2nd. If I think I like the tributes I have before then, I will begin writing. Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favor. I will only accept submission over PM, so sorry , no guest submissions. Thank you!**

 **-Maia**


	2. Sneak Peek

**_District 1_**

 ** _Victoria Rochas, 18_**

 ** _The Swan Girl_**

* * *

"Yes, girls, yes! Beautiful!"

My dance instructor, Glitza, claps at our tightly formed squad, all dressed in cloud white tutus and feather crowns that make us resemble graceful swans. My matching white slippers clank against the hardwood floor, dancing in rhythm with the soft, classical music playing through seemingly hidden speakers. As the song swells up, the rest of the ballerinas balance on their tiptoes before elegantly falling to the ground, concealing their faces.

"Bravo!" says a random voice from the audience, probably one of the girls' parents.

Applause erupts through the hall and before I know it, Glitza is tightly gripping my arm. I see all of the girls form small cliques, beginning to mindlessly chat.

"You have really improved, dearest Victoria. Virtually no errors." She gives me a pat on the shoulder, slightly messing up the makeup covering a scar on my back.

"It's my last performance from before I go into the Games," I say casually. "Who knows what might happen in the finale?"

Glitza's face contorts into a frown. "Are you sure about entering, Vic? You might not come back."

"Don't say I won't come back. It makes me sad." I shoot back." She glares at me intently.

"Besides, I'll be back home before the show in a month. I've been training for it the last six months, so there's no way I'll forget it in the arena."

Glitza takes me in her arms, rubbing my head. "I'm just… worried about losing you. I already lost your mother to these Games. And the whole dance is off without you."

I remove my somewhat uncomfortable feather crown, placing it next to my feet. "Which is exactly why I'm entering, for her." My mother had me at age 17, but she didn't have enough money to take care of me. So she entered the Games in an attempt to secure our future, but it didn't work out. She placed 5th after being mutilated by the bloodthirsty male from 7. He won.

"Well… I have to go shopping for a dress to wear to the Reaping… I'll see you at the goodbyes, I guess, and then when I come back."

Glitza just nods wordlessly as I exit the facility, with a bag slung over my shoulder. I can't wait to come back here for the big dance recital, as a Victor.

 ** _District 8_**

 ** _Incense "Incy" Balboa, 16_**

 ** _The Candle Girl_**

* * *

"Monarch," I say slowly, reading the text from my enthralling book. "A butterfly bearing colorful wings used to entrance prey and predators alike."

I rarely see insects in Eight, since we're so industrialized. I barely see animals at all, save for their pelts sent from District 10. The only live animals here is the annoying mockingjays looming in the merchant part of Eight, where I live. They will come circling around our neighborhood, since we have food. It's uncommon for one to not have to chase off the pesky bird when it's digging through the garbage, scavenging for a meal.

I close my enormous book, sauntering to my parents and sister, who are clutching books of their own.

"Ready to check out, Incy?" Mother says, plucking the book out of my hand and giving it to the librarian, who jots down my mother and father's names on a piece of paper.

"Name, dear?" she asks me, snapping me out of a daze.

"Incense Balboa," I sputter out, and she scribbles down my name below my parents' in tight handwriting. My book, in it's shiny red jacket, is placed back in my hands, where it should be. I open the book to where I last left off, drinking in a few words, before Mother suddenly closes it and traps my finger.

"When we get home, Incy." she says softly, and I start mrubbing my finger even though it barely hurt. My sister slides her book, a fiction one, on the librarian's desk. I notice the silly-looking monkey on the cover.

"You might like this one," she teases, and I playfully slap her on the shoulder as the book is handed back to her.

My older sister, Candelabra, is 18. She is scared out of her wits for the Reaping next week, although her chances of being picked are slim to none. There are much poorer kids in Eight who have had to put their name in that glass bowl countless times just to feed their starving family. Candelabra and I have never taken out tesserae in our lives. We always have food on the table, thanks to our parents.

We all walk from the library back to the candle shop, our home, the trip taking less than 10 minutes. The rest of my family is waiting for us. I so badly want to continue reading but Mother watches me like a hawk. The last time I tried reading and walking at the same time, I ran into a pole and broke my nose. But I'll be more careful, it's not like it'll happen again.

Father opens the door for us, and I step inside the dimly lit candle store. Candles, just candles, as far as the eye can see. The entire store is even lit by candles, save for a tiny dying light bulb hanging over Father's workbench.

"Alright, let's get to work," Father announces, and we all take our places. Mother and Father at the mixer, melting the wax to make the candles. Candelabra and my aunt, Fragrance, shaping them. My uncle Tallow and Aunt Loafa adding the scents. And I get the most interesting job of all: adding the wicks to the damn things, along with my cousin Wick, fittingly enough. The process is slow and mind-numbingly mundane. I've tried asking for a more "fun" task but my parents always tell me I'm the best at adding the wicks.

As I attach wick after wick after wick, I see cousin Wick start to fall asleep. I shake his arm, causing him to jolt awake. Wick starts to rub his eyes as I see something outside. I feel like I've seen it before. It's a small, colorful butterfly, with bright orange and black wings. I think I saw something like this in my book! Without thinking, I rush over to the kitchen table, where my answer sat. But I am stopped midway by Mother.

"No, Incy. Finish with the wicks. Then, you can read."

 _But I'll never get finished with the wicks_ , I think, barely keeping myself from saying those defiant words out loud. I drag myself back to my station, flopping onto the hard wooden stool, where Wick has fallen back asleep.

 _I know where I'm not working when I grow up,_ I say in my head.

* * *

 **Hi! Sorry this was a little short, but I'm working on the rest of the Reapings! Thanks to StarlilyJam and tracelynn for Victoria and Incy! :) I got a little carried away with Incy, obviously. Anyway, expect a new chapter soon!**

 **-Maia**


	3. The Reapings: Part 1

**_District 1_**

 ** _Victoria Rochas, 18_**

 ** _The Swan Girl_**

* * *

"Yes, girls, yes! Beautiful!"

My dance instructor, Glitza, claps at our tightly formed squad, all dressed in cloud white tutus and feather crowns that make us resemble graceful swans. My matching white slippers clank against the hardwood floor, dancing in rhythm with the soft, classical music playing through seemingly hidden speakers. As the song swells up, the rest of the ballerinas balance on their tiptoes before elegantly falling to the ground, concealing their faces.

"Bravo!" says a random voice from the audience, probably one of the girls' parents.

Applause erupts through the hall and before I know it, Glitza is tightly gripping my arm. I see all of the girls form small cliques, beginning to mindlessly chat.

"You have really improved, dearest Victoria. Virtually no errors." She gives me a pat on the shoulder, slightly messing up the makeup covering a scar on my back.

"It's my last performance from before I go into the Games," I say casually. "Who knows what might happen in the finale?"

Glitza's face contorts into a frown. "Are you sure about entering, Vic? You might not come back."

"Don't say I won't come back. It makes me sad." I shoot back." She glares at me intently.

"Besides, I'll be back home before the show in a month. I've been training for it the last six months, so there's no way I'll forget it in the arena."

Glitza takes me in her arms, rubbing my head. "I'm just… worried about losing you. I already lost your mother to these Games. And the whole dance is off without you."

I remove my somewhat uncomfortable feather crown, placing it next to my feet. "Which is exactly why I'm entering, for her." My mother had me at age 17, but she didn't have enough money to take care of me. So she entered the Games in an attempt to secure our future, but it didn't work out. She placed 5th after being mutilated by the bloodthirsty male from 7. He won.

"Well… I have to go shopping for a dress to wear to the Reaping… I'll see you at the goodbyes, I guess, and then when I come back."

Glitza just nods wordlessly as I exit the facility, with a bag slung over my shoulder. I can't wait to come back here for the big dance recital, as a Victor.

* * *

 ** _Iridi Lotu, 18_**

 ** _The Bruised Boy_**

"And that's what you get for calling me a bad mother, you little brat!"

I wince as I feel my mother's fists slam against my vulnerable body. She isn't usually this aggressive, but it's the day before I leave to go to the Capitol. Normally you would think she would spend a day like this leaving me alone, but with my crazy mother, it's the perfect day to beat your child. My father doesn't do much about it, since he's at work most of the time anyway.

"I'm sorry!" I gasp in between strikes. "Please, just stop!" My mother mercifully stops assaulting me, instead giving me a dirty look. She has torn a hole in the shirt of my outfit for the Reaping.

"You need a new Reaping outfit, anyway. Your old one makes you look like the trash from the slums." She throws some money at me, and I pick every last coin off of the ground.

"Okay, mother," I say emotionlessly, before making my way to my sister, who is sitting at the table on the other end of the room, pretending not to know what just happened.

"Bye, Rubi," I say, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

Rubi is never beat by my mother. She believes daughters shouldn't be abused. My mother hurts me in the first place because as a child, her brothers were beat, too. She thinks it's normal. I'm almost glad to be going away to the Capitol for a while. But I'll only come back to her ruthless fists and belts. No, she can't hurt a Victor. She just can't.

I apply makeup to my bruises before I leave. As I open the door that leads outside I plaster on a smile and stand up straight. Outside of this house, I'm an entirely different person. People think I'm a typical self-obsessed Career, but I don't want to be a sob story. If I told them what happens to me, I would most certainly be ridiculed and not taken seriously. And that would most certainly spell trouble in the Games.

As I stride down the streets of northern District 1, I take in the beauty of this part of town. I spot a house release 110 balloons, and many banners strung with my face on it. The entire neighborhood is celebrating my spot as tribute. I bet they will be celebrating even more when I come home. That's the only thing I'm looking forward to when I come back.

"Iridi! Over here!" A crowd of girls, probably my age, are circling around me, asking my autograph and for pictures.

"You're lookin' fine, whatever-your-name-is." I say to an unidentified girl.

"Macy," she blurts out, and she kisses me full on the lips. I stagger back, stunned. This looks like a fun time but I can't stay for too long. Mother will most certainly be mad and a beating will ensure.

"Goodbye!" shout the many girls as I head into the store. I spot a purple shirt, and I shudder at it.

It's the shade of purple of the bruises that my mother leaves me.

* * *

 ** _District 2_**

 ** _Cerys Asana, 17_**

 ** _The Helpful Girl_**

I stir a silver spoon around the cup of tea I have prepared for Mrs. Milan. She likes her tea somewhat weak, so I hold back on the flavoring. No honey, milk, or sugar. I place the steaming cup onto the saucer carefully before making my way to the living room. There, seniors are either knitting, eating, or just staring out the window. It's a peaceful environment here at Slumber Rocks Retirement Home.

I place the tea by the side table to the left of Mrs. Milan's wooden rocking chair. I'm doing all I can to make her feel welcome, because ever since her niece died in the 108th Hunger Games, she hasn't been the same. She refused to move out of the house they shared although with her niece gone, she could no longer pay for it. I invited her to live here, but Mrs. Milan is stubborn as a mule. But her best friend, Mrs. Stuart, finally convinced her after telling her that her niece would have wanted it that way. Mrs. Milan always gets teary when we mention her niece, and 1 month later, she moved in.

"Thank you, dear Cerys, you're so helpful," says Mrs. Milan sweetly. She has really warmed up to me, it seems.

"You're most certainly welcome," I say happily. Tomorrow is the Reaping, so it will be the last time I see her before I come back. I'm entering because the retirement home is running out of money, and is in danger of shutting down. So, I figured with my years of training to be a Career, entering the Games was perfect. I would use my Victor's wealth to keep the home open, and spare the lives of dozens of innocent senior citizens. It feels like they are counting on me. And I had just won the Tribute tournament, so clearly I had the skill.

I saunter back to the kitchen, where a window reveals a fantastic view of District Two's range of mountains. I begin to get lost in thought. In the tournament, I was facing Taluja, a very strong girl with cold grey eyes. For some reason her eyes always shake me to the core. Anyways, I seem to have won that fight out of pure luck. Taluja's asthma kicked in and she started to heave, allowing me to slam my sword to her head, not cutting her but giving her a concussion on the spot. But she was winning the fight anyway. I'm just a helpful maid girl. I begin to truly wonder if I have what it takes to be a Victor.

* * *

 ** _Calix Livianus, 18_**

 ** _The Scar Boy_**

Beads of sweat roll down my face, and a warm, sunny glow invades my vision as I try to jog around the perimeter of the Academy. Several other trainees trail behind me. Of course they do. They're nowhere near as fast or good as me. If they were, I'll certainly make they aren't for much longer. I'm the best, obviously, that's why I'm the male tribute this year. It was pretty much no contest. Suddenly, I hear a loud, piercing whistle from outside.

"Attention all Academy trainees: please report to the Main Hall in 5 minutes."

I know what this was. It was Headmistress Tressa making her final statement of the year, specifically to the chosen tribute. The other girl chosen attends the private academy, so I won't find out who she is until the Reaping.

As I head into the Main Hall, several other trainees grimace as they see me. I'm covered in red scars, which is probably what they are staring at. I cut myself so I can have a higher pain tolerance during the Games. I also just love the sight of blood, the glistening, red ooze that flows like a river. I'll be seeing blood other than my own very soon. I give them all menacing glares, causing them to look away.

"Yeah, you better stop staring," I spit out, shoving a willowy boy to make my way over to Headmistress Tressa and some other trainers. She leads me upstairs to the balcony, where the chosen tribute is always presented. I'm dreamed of being up this high, staring down at the others like the useless ants they are. Now it's a reality.

"Trainees. May I present to you the male tribute of District 2 for the 110th Hunger Games; Calix Livianus!" Scattered applause can be heard, along with several murmurs. I begin to turn beet red.

"Listen!" I scream at the little ants below. "I was chosen for a reason! You all might hate me now but let's see how you feel when I come back as a Victor!" Headmistress Tressa pulls me away.

"That's enough, Calix." she berates. I scowl at her as she makes me sit in a chair next to a random trainer. As the Headmistress makes a long and very boring speech, I zone off. I will really show them, and they'll forever regret treating me like a freak.

* * *

 ** _District 3_**

 ** _Gratiana Brindle, 17_**

 ** _The Bookworm Girl_**

The teacher hasn't arrived yet, so the entire class is in total anarchy. To avoid it, I hide in the back of the room, in the desk far away from the chaos. I'm not in big social clans like most girls my age. That's just not how I live, I don't dedicate my time worrying about what others think of me.

"Hey, guys! Who do you think's gonna get reaped?!" Everyone bursts into chatter, but then turn to me, of all people. Oh, boy.

"I think Tiana is gonna get reaped! Know why? 'Cause she put her name in there when she was fourteen to get tesserae!"

The entire room bursts into laughter, and I slink into my seat, guarding my face with my book. Kids like these are cruel for literally no reason, it seems.

"Tiana's a poor kid! Ha!"

I try to ignore the kids the best I can. I'm a solitary person, and I usually just grin and bear everything in life. But that doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. Ever since word went out that I took out tesserae, it's been gossip all over the school. And I just can't escape it. I live in a relatively nice section of Three, so taking out tesserae is very dishonorable.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I murmur, shoving my way through the mass of children blocking the door. I sprint to the bathroom, tears welling in my eyes. I turn the knob of the bathroom sink, letting the ice cold water cascade into my hands. I splash the water onto my face, and I look up into the mirror to see that my face has turned red.

"Oh, crap," I whisper, but it looks like some girls heard me. Before I know it, I'm being forced to the corner of the bathroom wall by Mitzi, the most popular girl in the whole school, and four other random girls here to torment me.

"What's the matter, Tiana? Too scared to admit that you belong in the slums?" she teases. Her friends giggle, the sound screechy and annoying.

"Just… get out of my way, Mitzi. I'm having a crap day. You don't know that everyday is a crap day for me." I say, barely holding back tears. Mitzi just laughs. "Well, there's an obvious solution to that! You could volunteer!"

I growl at her before pushing the large girl to the side, rushing out of the bathroom. Nowhere in this awful place is safe. I'm never safe. Never.

"Miss Brindle! Where are yo-" yells Ms. Atil, a teacher, before I dash past her, too. I push open the large doors that lead to the entrance of the school, where I'm met with icy rain. I just bury my hands in my face, distraught. My problems are bad, but will be nowhere near as bad than the kids who get Reaped.

* * *

 ** _Danylo Sepia, 17_**

 ** _The Smart Boy_**

My pen scurries across the white paper, plastering the letters of my latest story on it. I love to write stories about certain historical events having different outcomes, it's a sort of hobby of mine. Today I have written a story about the Apocalypse War, the very war that founded Panem. Although America was initially bombed to smithereens, I'm writing as if that had never happened and they won. Of course, if they won, Panem would have never existed.

I close my journal upon glancing at the clock. It's 9 o'clock, time to get to school. I scurry, hastily buttoning up my shirt and putting on my shoes, but it takes a few times as I forget which shoes go on which feet. After I'm ready, I grab my black backpack and rush out of my room and down the stairs, where my mother and father are waiting for me.

"Hello, Danylo," says my mom tiredly. My poor parents are both so overworked. I tried to apply for work to help them but they refused to let me. Instead, I dedicate my time to computer science. I wave them goodbye before sprinting to school, trying not to slip in the mud caused by the cold sheets of rain pouring on Three. Luckily, I don't live in the slums or near the factories, or else this would be acid rain. I spot my destination, Latier High School, and luckily a few kids are arriving still. So I'm not too late.

I push the doors open, and just as I do this, I hear a warning bell. I jog to my homeroom, trying to keep my balance with these muddy shoes. I just realized that I tracked a lot of mud into the halls by the disapproving look Ms. Atil is shooting me.

"Sorry," I say, panting. I make my way to homeroom, where boys and girls are already planted at computers. I seat myself between Rosaline Weathers and Xander Bradley. Both are exceptionally smart compared to me. I'm not dumb but certainly not as witty as they are, though I try. I immediately begin, coding like a madman. I'm so glad my parents have allowed me to do what I love.

* * *

 ** _District 4_**

 ** _Teila "Tiger" Kaley, 17_**

 ** _The Pounce Girl_**

A shiny, scaly figure of my next unlucky victim swims into my sight. A fish. My method for catching them is strange, but is what earned me my nickname. I pounce onto the fish as a tiger would, wrestling it until it dies. I've found that it's a pretty nice way to catch fish because I'm horrible with nets. The moment my finger touches them they always seem to tangle. That's what my life felt like for a while.

My mother died while giving birth to me. It has haunted me my whole life, burying me in guilt. But my dad was no better than I was after Mom's death. He turned distant, being there in body but not in spirit. Everyone always tells me tales of what a bright and cheerful person he was before I was born. But I never experienced that from him. All I'm ever met with is his dead eyes. When I was 15, I moved away to become a fisher, using my method, of course. But that was how I met my best friend, Rayden. He spotted me at a creek, dripping wet, shivering, and holding a metre-long fish. An albeit strange way to meet someone but it launched our friendship.

As I head back into the square to sell my catch of the day, I see a small girl, maybe 7 or 8, scoff at me.

"Is there a problem, missy?" I snap at her. She squints her sea green eyes at me, trying to make a mad face. "Girls shouldn't have short hair, you know. Only boys have short hair." I can almost feel steam coming out of my ears.

"Who says only boys can have short hair? I look quite good with it. Unlike you, I don't have to haul 5 pounds of that mangy mess attached to your head that you call hair around all day." The girl begins to tear up and sob, and I feel a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Damn, Tiger. You are cold." Rayden hands me a cup with a straw sticking out of it, and I take a sip. It's lemonade. Perfect for a typically hot day in 4.

"Well, you know the deal. I don't tolerate little brats. Why are you here?" I ask. Rayden begins to blush. "I, uh, wanted to spend the day before the Reaping with you." he says cooly.

"Why? I'm not entering. There isn't even a female volunteer this year, you know." I shoot back.

"I know. I just love spending time with you. You know that, right?" he muses. He puts his arm around me, and suddenly unexplainable warmth engulfes me.

"I know."

* * *

 ** _Gleyn Bersond, 17_**

 ** _The Honest Boy_**

"I'm just saying, Pearle. It was a stupid thing to do."

"How can you be so insensitive?!" cries Pearle, one of my good friends. She recently sold her training trident for ruby lipstick. When she showed it to her boyfriend, he berated her and they broke up on the spot. I agree with her now ex-boyfriend that it was a waste but Pearle isn't exactly happy about that.

"I'm not being insensitive, Pearle. I'm telling the truth. You shouldn't have traded your weapon. You need it." I say.

"I don't need it!" she shoots back. "I wasn't even planning on entering the Games this year, you know!" I become curious.

"Say, who is the female entering this year?" I ask. I truly don't know. I haven't even received word yet about who is going to be my partner.

"Um, there isn't going to be one." she says quietly. I gasp a little louder than I anticipated.

"What?! So I'll be going into the Games with a random girl?!" I question, shocked. Pearle nods. Hopefully this girl was pretty. And half decent with weapons, because there's always a chance the Careers from 7 don't want in the Alpha Career alliance, and go off on their own. A five-person Career alliance won't cut it. Perhaps if some scrawny outlier scores higher than a seven they can be in the Pack to watch the Cornucopia or something.

I head to the square to purchase some trademark District 4 flour, pale green stuff that is almost always made into the shape of a fish. I buy just a sack of it because hauling two around would make my muscles sore and stiff, and that's the last thing I want the day before the Reaping.

"Glenny! Glenny!"

Suddenly I hear the distressed wails of my little sister, Oceania. She runs into my arms, making me drop my flour to the ground. Thankfully it doesn't just burst open.

"What's the matter?!" I ask, out of breath from Oceania's bear hug. She begins to blubber, so I'm forced to rub her head until she can muster up words. "A girl called m-my h-h-hair ugly…" she says, tears streaming down her face. I look at her hair, it's golden wavy locks that cascade down her back. Who would call it ugly?

"Don't worry, little sis, I'll find this girl when I come back. She will be sorry for talking that way to the sister of District Four's newest Victor!" I say proudly to her, and it seems to have calmed her down a bit.

"You mean it, older brother? For real?" she asks softly.

I hug her again before she lets go, smiling.

"I mean it, Oceania. Now go buy some cakes for Mrs. Ottenbur, it's her birthday today."

She nods happily before dashing off to the cake kiosk. I grin. It's going to be hard to be in the Capitol without her.

* * *

 **Aaaand we have Districts 1, 2, 3, and 4! The last chapter, previously titled "Victoria and Incy", is a Sneak Peek of the work I did so far. This chapter is the real Reaping chapter :). At least for 1-4. I will post 5-8 as soon as I can, but I have a teensy problem. We're missing male tributes from Districts 9 and 11! Please submit one so we can have the full cast! If you submit to me, your tribute originally submitted might have a higher chance of making it far in the Games! So go and submit, please! :D**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading, and please review! It really helps! I might start up a sponsor system where reviewing gets you points to buy gifts :) anyway, stay tuned for 5-8 intros!**

 **-Maia**


	4. The Reapings: Part 2

**Hello! Sorry for the longish wait. Reapings can be a pain to write sometimes, and I want to move onto more exciting parts of the Games. This chapter will be the actual Reapings themselves, next chapter will be goodbyes. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **District 5**

 **Tyssa Woods, 15**

 **The Sprite Girl**

* * *

I playfully prance onstage, wearing a frightening mask to fit my role as the Evil Sprite. In our school play, Panemian Palace, I'm the villain. I pretty much represent the anarchy that used to be, before the Founding Fathers formed Panem. I destroy buildings, catch them on fire, scary stuff like that.

"Fear me, adventurers! You will not pass the impenetrable forces of my army!" I say pridefully to the kids playing the good guys, the Adventurers. A bunch of kids storm the stage as my evil servants. Rehearsals are always fun, but this one is early in the morning since the Reaping is today.

After hours of rehearsal, I see that my watch reads 8:00. The Reaping is at noon, so I'll have time to take a nap and get ready. I discard my costume before grabbing my backpack and waving my fellow actors and actresses goodbye.

I finally arrive home, and I almost involuntarily flop onto my bed, exhausted. I can't stop myself from succumbing to sleep.

A few hours later, I hear annoying banging at my door.

"Tyssie! Tyssie, wake up! We're going to be late!" yells my little brother, Jay. I start to panic, the Reaping is the absolute last thing I want to be late to. I try to calm myself down, but I can only feel the panic rising when I realize the event I'm going to be late to, the day where kids are condemned to the death sentence.

"Coming!" I say through the door while pulling on my white tights. I push open my blue curtains, allowing harsh morning light to flood my small room. I can see the ferrets trying to scratch on my window like they always do, but I can't let them now.

I burst from my room, with my bookbag in hand. It contains my stress ball, headache medicine, and some journals. Our house is one story, because I repeatedly face planted every time I glided down the stairs, so we moved. Everything seems to be done for my protection, which is why I feel like such a burden sometimes.

"TYSSIE!" Mother screams. "The Reaping is in ten minutes! Pick up the pace!" I rush downstairs, panting.

"I'm coming!"

We almost have to sprint to the square, where the last few people are having their blood drawn. After the lady rudely pricks my finger, I suck on it to reduce bleeding. As I scamper to the 15 year old girl pen, our video is just beginning to play. I forget what it's about, honestly. It doesn't matter much to me. And the loud volume of it is freaking me out a little. But the next words from our escort's mouth terrified me.

"Tyssa Woods!"

My legs freeze up, and I'm unable to walk. As the Peacekeepers carry me to the stage, I can only think one thing.

This is not how I wanted to be onstage.

* * *

 **Turmeric "Meric" Saucer, 17**

 **The Chef Boy**

I toss the fluffy dough in the air, letting it splat back into my fingers until it has formed a circular shape, perfect for some sauces and cheese to be laid on. I love making pizza, it's one of my favorite things to do, and I was taught how to make it by my best friend, Colleen. She's 15, and although people always say we'd be such a "cute couple" I really don't see anything happening. My boss, Mr. Ratatouille, walks over and smiles at our progress.

"Good, Turmeric. Be sure to spread the sauce evenly, boy." he says gently. He has always been a good boss to me, offering help, hacks in cooking. He's older now, and considering retirement, but I have tried to talk him out of it.

Meanwhile, my other close co worker, Vindaloo Jayajova, screeches as he looks at the clock.

"Ah! Kids, the Reaping is in twenty minutes!" he says frantically. Colleen looks up at me.

"Hey, Meric, we got to finish up and stick these puppies in the fridge." says Colleen, wrapping her half-finished pizza in plastic.

"Oh. To be honest, I completely forgot about the Reaping," I tell her, sticking my pizza in the expansive fridge on the other side of the kitchen. I look down to see that my clothes have sauce all over them.

"That, uh, kind of looks like blood, Meric," snickers Colleen, barely holding back amused laughter. "Shouldn't you go home and change?" she asks.

"Yeah," I mutter, slipping on my black trench coat to hide most of the stains. "I'll meet you there, at the usual place?" Colleen nods. I rush out of the back door of the restaurant and lightly jog through the streets of District 5. It's warm, as usual. A hot July day is almost always spent by me in the cool kitchen, cooking up a storm. But the Reaping always annoyed me. It got in the way of my schedule.

Before I know it, I'm at the front door of my house, which isn't too far from the restaurant. I push the door open, and I'm immediately met with the smell of food. Sure enough, my parents are in their large kitchen, and I peek over their shoulders to see that they are making a breakfast omelette.

"Hi, Meric!" shouts my mom over the steam, and my father gives me a wave. An ingredient on the table catches my eye.

"Is that… ginger?" I ask, my finger weakly pointing at the deformed plant.

"It is, son! We managed to get some for you, on this special day. It's all yours when you get back." says my father, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I tell them both, bear hugging them until they escape my grasp.

My parents turn off the stove and oven to take me to the Reaping. I forgot to change, but it doesn't matter. That sweet, well, not so sweet, ginger will soon be in my hands. It's really all I can think about right now.

"Next."

I barely notice the sharp prick in my finger. I'm in a daze as I step into the seventeen year old section. The escort finally comes onstage, singing.

"Happy Hunger Games, District 5, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" I don't notice the girl onstage, who is keeping a stone-cold expression.

"Turmeric Saucer!"

My precious ginger escapes my mind, and it should, because now I'll never cook with it.

* * *

 **District 6**

 **Kyva Ruun, 13**

 **The Protected Girl**

"And the moment the Reaping is over, come home at once, do you understand?"

"Yes," I mumble as Mother ties a bow around my neck, which patches my pink plaid skirt. I've never watched a Hunger Games in my life, so it's not like I know the fate the kids who trudge onstage. Maybe they go to the Capitol and live there forever. At any rate, they don't come back. Except a couple years ago when my neighbor Miss Myers returned, but the boy who went with her didn't. Maybe he wanted to stay behind.

"Make sure to keep her away from the TV for the next few weeks," my mom instructs my dad. She hands me a few coins, cupping them in my hand.

"Go get some milk from the market and come straight home, young lady." she says sternly. I nod and skip out of my house, trying to remember which way the market was. Finally, I see a red arrow with the words "market" below, so I decide to trust the sign, and sure enough, it takes me into the bustling area filled with all sorts of goods. I immediately head over to the milk kiosk, handing the lady my coins and receiving a bottle of milk in return.

"I wish you luck," the woman says sadly. I'm always confused when people say this. Why do I need luck? What happens after the kids leave can't be that bad.

"So…" I say, trailing off. "What happens to the kids after they are Reaped?" The lady begins to tear up, letting out a distressed sigh.

"You will find out for yourself." she says somberly. Still confused, I dash back to my house, because Mother always gets angry with me if I stay out too long.

After a short, three-minute run home, I push open the unlocked door to my house, to find Father pulling me inside.

"Thank goodness you're back." he says breathlessly, and brushes off non-existent dust off my shoulders. Mother plucks the bottle of milk from my hand. "We'll walk you to the Reaping, okay?" Mother says softly.

"Y-Yeah," I say quietly, and just as we exit the house, the Reaping bells ring. My parents tightly hold both of my hands, refusing to let me go until I finally reach the line that draws my blood.

"Okay, after the man pricks your finger, stay in the thirteen year-old section. After the Reaping, come and find us at this spot, got it?" I nod in response, but the urge to ask why they are so afraid is beginning to rise. Surely enough, I can't stop it.

"Where do the kids go after they are Reaped?" I blurt out. Mother and Father turn beet red, and I can almost see the steam coming out of their ears. I know realize that I have made a mistake.

"Don't ever ask where they go again, Kyva! After this day, don't ever ask again!" screams Mother. Several eyes turn on us but I try my best to ignore them.

"Why?" I say firmly. "Why are you trying to shield me from the Games? Are they really that bad?" Father hangs his head, while Mother looks at me disapprovingly.

"Yes, Kyva. They are that bad. Now, the moment we get home, we are having a talk."

"Okay, Father," I say glumly. Last time something like this happened, I was locked in my room with no dinner all night. That's probably the same fate I will be receiving later today.

…

"Next," the woman says, and my finger is poked lightly with a needle, and my blood smeared across a blank sheet of paper.

 _Ruun, Kyva_

 _Age 13_

"Go on ahead," the Peacekeeper says roughly, and I do. Speed walking to the thirteen year old section, I just keep my head down, blending in, not making a sound. Just like my parents told me to.

"Kyva Ruun!"

My head jerks up, in horror, but then I start to smile. I will finally receive an answer.

* * *

 **Styx Gasket, 18**

 **The Fiery Boy**

I angrily start banging my hammer on a muffler, disfiguring it. I'm soon being berated by my manager, Colin.

"Gasket! What do you think you are doing?! Get back to work!" he shouts at me. I discard my destroyed car part and get up to join some of my friends in lifting the heavy, heavy boxes from the factory to the port. Our lifting machines are old and corroded, so transporting the load by hand has, unfortunately, become a faster alternative.

"You know, Gasket, if you didn't act like such a brat when you were little, you would have been living large." mocks Uganda, a girl who is my age and the only one working in her family.

"Shut it," I snap, hauling the boxes onto a truck, where they will be transported to another department that puts the parts together to form a hovercraft.

Suddenly, I hear the all-too familiar bells ringing. It's time to pick who's going to die. I literally have never been picked, and I'm 18. If there's any time to not be picked, it's now.

..

Hours later, I'm forcing on a green shirt on my body while I see kids lining up outside the square. I dash downstairs, grabbing my shoes and forcing them on. They feel tighter than usual.

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad. I'll be back after they choose the twerps going to their deaths." I yell to them as I dash out the door.

"Don't get chosen, son!" my father shouts as I click the door shut. I hitch a ride on a truck with a shipment of who-knows-what heading to the trains to be shipped off to whatever far-off land they are destined to. As soon as I reach my destination, they finally notice me.

"Kid! Get off now!" a supervisor yells at me, and I hop off the back and sprint off to the square. I peek behind me, and it looks like I lost them.

"You will pay for invading property of the Capitol, you delinquent!" he screams.

I run through the streets of Six, twisting and turning and avoiding passing people. I crash into a cart filled with purple berries and they spill all over my shirt. Cursing to myself, but not slowing down, I finally, finally reach the line of boys signing in to the Reaping. I look behind me. I must have lost them.

"Thank God," I say in relief, and blend in with the other boys.

After having my blood drawn, I'm herded into the eighteen year old pen, the largest one. I can see a face glaring at me in the adult section. I think it was the man who chased me here. He's glaring at me. I'll probably have to deal with him later. As I see a small, somewhat happy-looking girl glide onstage, the Escort the next piece of paper.

"Styx Gasket!" I gasp out loud, a little louder than I had intended. I hear roaring laughter from the back.

"Ha! Serves you right!" he screams. I just try to stay strong, especially when my insides feel like crumbling.

* * *

 **District 7**

 **Oakley Gunderson, 16**

 **The Willow Girl**

I stir around my warming soup, in a ginormous pot big enough to serve my entire family. I know that they will be coming home from work soon. Mom, Dad, Woodsen, and Kit. I'm the only one in the family not working. And to be honest, that's how I like it. But that isn't how my father likes it.

I hear our front door creak open. It's my ex- boyfriend, Fir. We broke up awhile ago and we both know why.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, scared. "You know my dad doesn't like you at my house, and since when did you have permission to barge in like this?" Fir rubs the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I kind of wanted to see you before the Reaping. There's a tiny chance you might be picked, with Aspena out sick and all." he says quietly. I'm a little surprised at this. Like District 4, we don't always produce both Careers. But we have had some amazing tributes these past few years. But I guess all good things must come to an end.

"Oh," is all I say, and I direct him to the exit. "It was nice seeing you, but I really think you should get going… Fir." I shove him to the door, but before he has a chance to leave, the door already opened. It's my family, with my father in the front, his eyes as wide as bowls.

"What is this bum doing here, Oakley?!" He asks me, slamming the door behind him. My mother is looking at me disapprovingly. My younger siblings just look confused.

"He… he just came inside! I didn't even invite him, Dad! Just let him leave!" I cry. He contemplates for a second, and turns to Fir.

"I don't want you ever going near my Oakley again. She already has enough going on. She isn't even willing to work!" he shouts straight at Fir, who is very tense. I explode.

"Excuse me, Dad, but work has nothing to do with this! Who cares if I don't cut down trees? Someone has to do the dirty work!" Fir has already fled, and just as my dad opens his big mouth again, I hear loud bells somewhat muffled by the abundance of trees surrounding our house.

"Yay, we get to see the volunteer in person!" shouts Kit happily. Woodson and Kit begin to chatter mindlessly and I shoot a deadly glare at my dad.

"Oakley, Thickett, enough. Ever since she started seeing Fir you've been just terrible to her." says my Mom.

Thank you, Mom! I think. Dad just stares at my mom, red, when Kit opens the door.

"We should get going. I'll… deal with you later," Dad spits at me. We all take a stroll through the streets of District Seven, people gossiping of the latest male volunteer. Aspena Fairlen caught a fever, an almost deadly one, so the other volunteer, Grover Ridley, will be the only Career from 7 this year. I'm a little excited to get a glimpse of him as well.

…

Once my finger has been pricked and we're all finally in place, the escort, a pile of vegetation known as Cullinan, decides to "shake things up a bit" and draw the male first. News of our volunteer reached the Capitol as well, it seems.

"Tim-" he starts, but is cut off by Grover Ridley himself.

"I volunteer!" he shouts, and we're all in awe of him. He's tall, muscular, and athletic. Our chances of Victory seemed high this year.

"What's your name, dear?" asks Cullinan.

"None other than Grover Ridley!" he proclaims proudly. Applause erupts, and even I join in. But my joy is short lived.

"Oakley Gunderson!"

"Oakley!" my mother shouts, and by the time I'm onstage, I see my sister bawling and my father passed out. I almost feel like doing the same.

* * *

 **Grover Ridley, 17**

 **The Axe Boy**

Another axe goes whirling from my hand and into the target, perfectly hitting the bull's eye.

"Good. Now try on the mannequins," instructs my trainer, Birchlee. I throw it with all my might and it cleanly decapitates the plastic head off its body.

"Ha, imagine my doing that to some little outlier twerp," I joke, and Birchlee squints her almond-shaped eyes at me.

"Don't get too over-confident, Ridley. There are some formidable opponents out there sometimes." she warns. I just scoff.

"Nah," I say casually, heading over to the axe sharpener. "I'll be fine. I gotta leave to go say goodbye to my pals, mind closing up shop for me?" I ask. She nods. I head into the cafeteria, where everyone goes silent the moment I enter.

"It's him!"

"Is he that tall in person?"

"He's gonna win!"

Several hushed voices, all commenting on me in some positive way, are heard in the room before I plant myself at a table near the large window. Everyone crowds around me, asking my autograph, for a picture. I'm loving all this attention, but I can't begin to imagine how great it will be in the Capitol. Honestly, a lavish vacation in the city is seriously what I need right now. All this training has gotten me kind of tired.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

"It's time, Rigs!" shouts out my good friend, Tanner. He forms a large mob around me and we all march happily to the square.

"Victor! Victor! Victor!" shouts the many people surrounding me, and more and more of my admirers join me to the square.

"It's time to get my blood drawn; for the last time!" I declare. People begin to cheer, the trainees getting into their own lines. As soon as I make it to the seventeen year old section, everyone allows me to get in the front. I literally feel like I'm on top of the world.

Suddenly, our escort, a man with green vines wrapped around his head and light green skin hops onstage, beaming.

"District 7, I welcome you to the Reaping of the 110th Annual Hunger Games! Today, we will decide our lucky two representatives for this year! But before we get to the main event, a little history video to jog your memory!" Audible groans are heard as the video flickers to life.

"War, terrible war…" The rest is just boring. This is everyone's least favorite part and by far the most boring. But things will get interesting soon.

"Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for! To shake things up a bit, we'll pick our lucky gentlemen first!" He digs his hand though the bowl, taking a little longer than I would like, but the name doesn't matter in the slightest. I'll be going up there soon.

"Tim-"

"I volunteer!" I shout out, and right away everyone starts clapping for me. The escort holds the microphone to me.

"What's your name, dear?" he asks. I snatch the microphone from his hand and unload my excitement.

"None other than Grover Ridley!" I exclaim, and the cheering grows to deafening volumes. The escort choose the girl, but everyone's still talking about me.

"Oakley Gunderson!" I hear a deep voice, probably her father or something, cry out her name in horror. This poor girl, unfortunately, is going into the Games with me, since Aspena is out. As soon as she wipes her tears, she glances up at me. I offer her a smile, which seems to calm her down.

"Congrats to the tributes of District 7, Grover Ridley and Oakley Gunderson!"

* * *

 **District 8**

 **Incense "Incy" Vazquez, 16**

 **The Candle Girl**

"Monarch," I say slowly, reading the text from my enthralling book. "A butterfly bearing colorful wings used to entrance prey and predators alike."

I rarely see insects in Eight, since we're so industrialized. I barely see animals at all, save for their pelts sent from District 10. The only live animals here is the annoying mockingjays looming in the merchant part of Eight, where I live. They will come circling around our neighborhood, since we have food. It's uncommon for one to not have to chase off the pesky bird when it's digging through the garbage, scavenging for a meal.

I close my enormous book, sauntering to my parents and sister, who are clutching books of their own.

"Ready to check out, Incy?" Mother says, plucking the book out of my hand and giving it to the librarian, who jots down my mother and father's names on a piece of paper.

"Name, dear?" she asks me, snapping me out of a daze.

"Incense Balboa," I sputter out, and she scribbles down my name below my parents' in tight handwriting. My book, in it's shiny red jacket, is placed back in my hands, where it should be. I open the book to where I last left off, drinking in a few words, before Mother suddenly closes it and traps my finger.

"When we get home, Incy." she says softly, and I start mrubbing my finger even though it barely hurt. My sister slides her book, a fiction one, on the librarian's desk. I notice the silly-looking monkey on the cover.

"You might like this one," she teases, and I playfully slap her on the shoulder as the book is handed back to her.

My older sister, Candelabra, is 18. She is scared out of her wits for the Reaping next week, although her chances of being picked are slim to none. There are much poorer kids in Eight who have had to put their name in that glass bowl countless times just to feed their starving family. Candelabra and I have never taken out tesserae in our lives. We always have food on the table, thanks to our parents.

We all walk from the library back to the candle shop, our home, the trip taking less than 10 minutes. The rest of my family is waiting for us. I so badly want to continue reading but Mother watches me like a hawk. The last time I tried reading and walking at the same time, I ran into a pole and broke my nose. But I'll be more careful, it's not like it'll happen again.

Father opens the door for us, and I step inside the dimly lit candle store. Candles, just candles, as far as the eye can see. The entire store is even lit by candles, save for a tiny dying light bulb hanging over Father's workbench.

"Alright, let's get to work," Father announces, and we all take our places. Mother and Father at the mixer, melting the wax to make the candles. Candelabra and my aunt, Fragrance, shaping them. My uncle Tallow and Aunt Loafa adding the scents. And I get the most interesting job of all: adding the wicks to the damn things, along with my cousin Wick, fittingly enough. The process is slow and mind-numbingly mundane. I've tried asking for a more "fun" task but my parents always tell me I'm the best at adding the wicks.

As I attach wick after wick after wick, I see cousin Wick start to fall asleep. I shake his arm, causing him to jolt awake. Wick starts to rub his eyes as I see something outside. I feel like I've seen it before. It's a small, colorful butterfly, with bright orange and black wings. I think I saw something like this in my book! Without thinking, I rush over to the kitchen table, where my answer sat. But I am stopped midway by Mother.

"No, Inky. Finish with the wicks. Then, you can read."

But I'll never get finished with the wicks, I think, barely keeping myself from saying those defiant words out loud. I drag myself back to my station, flopping onto the hard wooden stool, where Wick has fallen back asleep.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

It looks like it's time for the Reapings.

Candelabra and Wick, as well as our parents, follow me outside, obviously wanting to get there and back as quickly as possible so we can finish our shifts. The town square is a short walk from our shop, and before I know it, my finger is being pricked and I'm standing with a bunch of sixteen year old girls.

"Welcome!" says the Eight escort, Irene, wearing a gigantic hat decorated with fruits and garnish. A number of slum kids seem to drool over her gaudy headpiece, but I just roll my eyes. After the incredibly boring video about the Dark Days, I begin to want to go back home to finish with the wicks.

"Incense Vasquez!"

Wick will have to do it without me.

* * *

 **Lyndon Orange, 16**

 **The Blind Boy**

"Lyndon, are you ready?" my father shouts. From what I can hear, she's already halfway out the door. We were going to visit the duck pond, the one soothing part of District 8, before the Reapings. He always has to help me everywhere, because I'm completely blind.

"Yeah, almost," I shout back in the direction I heard his voice. I start swiping near my bed for the plastic staff I use to see where I'm going. Before my mother died she used to scavenge for these at the dumpsters near the factories of Eight. I miss her. She promoted such a great cause, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. The Capitol didn't think so.

"Coming!" I yell downstairs, and I carefully make steps downstairs to avoid falling. One trip to the hospital was enough. Suddenly, I feel my father's rough hand against mine, and he guides me outside, where humid blasts of air hit my face. It gets hot in Eight during the summer, but not as hot as other Districts like 10 or 11. Our winters can be freezing, which is why a lot of people don't make it past the biting cold season.

"Quack! Quack!" says the ducks, and I begin to smile as I hear them dunk their heads underwater to look for food. Luckily, my father has rough tessera bread in his pocket. Not very appetizing but good enough for the hungry birds. I can tell that they are fighting for the morsels now. As we settle down on a flat rock, the sunlight gets warmer.

"Lyndon," says my dad tiredly. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you more than anyone. And that your mother would be very proud of you." I'm a little confused. I don't know why he is acting like I'm leaving, the chances of me being picked are slim to none.

"I know, Dad," I say, and we embrace. He pulls me back. I can tell he's sniffling. "Everything your mother and I did was to protect you. I want you to know that. And there's something I wanted to admit to you that I've known for a really long time but didn't have to courage to tell you." I'm getting worried.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice shaky. He takes a deep breath.

"N-never mind, son. You will find out later." he gets up and leads me for a very, very long time down a dirt road. Once loud bells begin to ring, I remember that the Reaping is today.

"Go get your blood drawn and stand in the sixteen year old pen. It's a little farther from the stage than the fifteen year old pen. Wait there… and I'll see you soon." I feel his hand slip away from mine, and his tone is starting to get me very scared. Why is he talking like that? Before I can comprehend anything further I feel a sharp pain in my finger. The Peacekeeper forcefully grabs my hand and drags it across paper.

"Next," he says gruffly, and I wander until I reach the pen that I'm assuming is the sixteen year old pen. I plant my feet on the ground firmly but I can feel them shaking.

"Welcome, welcome, District 8! Welcome to the Reaping for the 110th Annual Hunger Games!" I almost don't hear the video played. Everything sounds muffled. After the video ends, the girl is drawn.

"Incense Vasquez!" she cries. Oppressive silence and shuffling feet overtake the arena, and the next to words justify my fear.

"Lyndon Orange!"

Something is wrong. Definitely wrong.

* * *

 **And there's the Reapings for 5-8! I'm sorry for the shortness of the chapters and that it took so long, but to be honest, I've been pretty busy and I just don't have time to write 10,000 word chapters right now. They might increase in length after the Reapings and once everything calms down a bit, but for now, this is the best I can do. I'm trying to keep updates weekly, maybe once every three days if I'm feeling inspired. And I have a VERY special announcement. The lovely tracelynn has created a BLOG for this story! It's at royalblood110thhg . blogspot . com (delete the spaces). I suggest you go and check it out! Next will be goodbyes for 9-12! :)**

 **-Maia**


	5. The Reapings: Part 3

**Here's the goodbyes for 9-12! Next chapter will most likely be a trains/chariot chapter all in one. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **District 9**_

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16**_

 _ **The Orphan Girl**_

* * *

As I stand onstage, petrified, Atticus, the male, maintains a look of confidence on his face. He looks so unfazed by the fact that he has been sentenced to death. Tears begin to well in my eyes, and as they are about to spill, the escort breaks the silence.

"Your tributes, District 9, for the 110th Hunger Games! Citlali Kenyie and Atticus Faux!" she screams to the pale and pasty-faced crowd. One lone child in the audience begins to cry as we are forced into the Justice Building, the doors slammed in our faces.

I'm pushed into a cold room filled with velvety furniture. It feels so tight and claustrophobic in here, but a normal person would be uncomfortable. I've been jammed in tight rooms my entire life. At the orphanage, whenever sickness went around, instead of sleeping dangerously close to the infected kids, I snuck off and wrapped myself in empty bags of tessera in the room where it comes in. We live off that stuff. We all had to take it. What once saved me from starvation is what is now sending me to my death. Lovely.

Out of nowhere the door creaks open, revealing a stern-looking woman in a Peacekeeper uniform.

"Miss Kenyie, you only have one visitor today," she says in a monotone voice. I nod glumly, because I already know who it is. It's Mrs. Prescott, the owner of my orphanage. She's a cruel, sadistic woman. Although she originally had good intentions for opening the orphanage, the death of her husband changed her. I can still feel the bruise marks she gave me.

"Hello, Mrs. Prescott," I say quietly. She gives me a dirty look.

" Gosh, even when you are heading to the Games, you have no manners! It's _Madam_ Prescott, mind you!" she howls at me, adjusting her way-too-big glasses that barely stand on the bridge of her crooked nose.

"Whatever," I mutter, but apparently I didn't say it quiet enough, because she is red as a tomato.

"You spoiled brat! I'm _glad_ that snobs like you get Reaped and end up being bloodbath fodder. Truly glad." She gets up and slams her leather purse in my face, glancing at me one more time before scoffing and clicking the door shut. I just stand there, finally sitting in the purple chair pushed against the wall. Atticus probably has way more visitors than me, and I only had one.

I just sit there for another half hour, longingly staring out the window. The people are already filing out of the square, probably heading home to ponder on the fate of the two kids they just saw onstage. When Ivy Annette came so close to winning last year but placed 5th, the entire District was in mourning. When a tribute comes so close to Victory and dies, losing two more can sometimes be more than you can handle.

Finally, the door opens, and another, different Peacekeeper pokes his head in.

"It's time to board the train, young lady." he says gruffly. I just smooth out my threadbare dress and take a deep breath. It wasn't the Games yet, Citlali. It was just a little trip to the Capitol. Just a trip for now.

"Okay," I say sadly, and as Atticus joins me, I see that tears are now streaming down his face. Luckily, for the time being, we were out of the camera's sights. By the time we exit the old Justice Building, his tears have dried, and we are back in the eyes of the public. A papparazzi of visiting Capitolites are storming us, trying to desperately sneak one picture of us. Just one picture would be worth a lot, in the case that one of us comes home with a crown. It would be the highest honor to have taken a picture of a future Victor. We stroll through Nine for another ten minutes, avoiding the adoring crowd of colorful people. I actually kind of like a couple of them, they look like rainbows to me. I giggle a little as a rose is handed to me. Atticus just rolls his eyes and shoots me a dirty look, causing me to drop it to the ground, where it's blue petals are crushed under the shuffling feet of the crowd. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, we have reached the train. The escort claps, seemingly opening the sleek metallic doors. She hops aboard and holds out her hand, grinning.

"Come, come, my children!"

* * *

 _ **Atticus Faux, 16**_

 _ **The Breadwinner Boy**_

* * *

As the escort, Georgia Skyshore, congratulates us on becoming the latest corpses or something, a baby begins to cry in the corwd. It has always annoyed me whe parents take young, ineligable children to the Reaping. But then again, exposing these kids to the harsh realities of the crappiness of Panem isn't the worst idea. Nothing in the districts is sugarcoated. That's the Capitol's job.

The Peacekeepers roughly herd us into the musty old Justice Building, where I catch a glimpse of Citlali before we are both shoved into our goodbye rooms. I observe the room itself, old but plush, blueish velvet cushioning all the furniture. It usually doesn't take this long for visitors to come, from what I've heard. But I'm just sitting here, alone, in this soft room. After around three minutes of twiddling my thumbs, I get up and take a large book off the bookshelf directly in front of me. I crack it open to a random spot to see a picture of a bunch of animals. Mutts. My blood turns to ice, because it hasn't taken me long to realize that Mutts will probably be tearing me from limb to limb in a week or so. The thought of me, lying on the grass, staining the blades red with my blood. I can feel myself shivering in fear as the door suddenly bursts open. It's my siblings; Calic, Audra, and Levinia, ages 11, 10, and 7 respectively. But I notice that a certain someone is missing.

"Where is Mom?" I ask, worried. Calic hangs his head, and I'm immediately aware of what probably happened to her. "Did she... freak out?" By "freak out", I mean having a mental breakdown. She has had plenty of them lately, all after Dad went missing, and having her oldest son Reaped doesn't help her mental health in the slightest. Audra explains that she has been taken to a mental health institute on the edges of 9.

"But what are you guys going to do?!" I ask. Their father is gone, and now their mother is locked up. If she's declared "unstable" it's guaranteed she will never leave that place. My siblings will have no choice but to go to the district orpahange. That is a fate worse than being Reaped. Besides from the disease, neglect, and abuse in that awful place, they force you to take out more tesserae and have your name added more times than you can count. Calic, Audra, and Levinia wouldn't survive a month there. But maybe...

"You guys," I start to say, "I will not let you stay in that awful orphanage, I will come home, and I will let you guys live in my Victor's Village house, and we will get Mom out of that place together!" They still seem uncertain, but they just tearfully nod, wiping their eyes as we hug for a very, very long time. But yet not enough. The Peacekeeper comes in soon enough, and drags my little siblimgs out, who begin to sob as the door clicks shut, probably the last I will see of them. But the door opens once more.

"You have one more visiter," says the Peacekeeper. I'm confused. Is it Mom? Did they allow her to come and see me from the hospital? Instead, someone I have not seen in two years walks in, bags under his eyes, wearing a sterile white uniform.

My father.

"What are you doing here?" I ask harshly. I'm not going to be too kind to this bastard, because he abandoned our family whe we needed him most. I became the breadwinner at such a young age because of him. He doesn't answer me.

"What are you doing here?!" I screech, banging my fist against the oak sidetable. He just starts to frantically shake his head.

"Mr. Faux, this man has been caught trying to run away from the safety of his district. He has been labeled a traitor. He is on his way to the Capitol to begin becoming an Avox," the Peacekeeper says, stopping midsentence.

"And?!" I shout angrily. The Peacekeeper sighs deeply. "He has arranged a deal. Should his son emerge victorious, we will spare him and return him to you. However, if you fail, he will become an Avox." I just stare at my father, stunned. Is he aware that he has he just put his own son under more pressure than he should be able to physically handle?

"Why isn't he talking?" I ask. The Peacekeeper explains that the condemned are to remain silent at all times. As he escorts my father out, I collapse onto the soft couch, but I can't do anything to stop the salty tears forming in my eyes from cascading down my pale cheeks.

* * *

 _ **District 10**_

 _ **Astelle Landers, 15**_

 _ **The Bull Girl**_

* * *

The name containing my name on it is still in the escort Tressa's hands. Two words, my name, is what sealed my fate. I'm still in complete shock. I'm just standing there, my legs starting to feel like jelly. I can barely stand at all. Before I know it, my vision begins to turn spotted and I'm unconsious in seconds.

"Get her to the goodbye room, stat!" is the last thing I hear, probably from a Peacekeeper, before I slip into blissful darkness. I wake up a few moments later, bandages wrapped around my head suddenly. I can feel myself being carried by someone, and, without warning, plopped onto a comfy couch. After around a minute, I finally work up the strength to sit up, where I'm now in a fuzzy purple room. How did I get here? I remember that I was at the Reaping, and then...

I was Reaped. I was sentenced to death.

I begin to cry weakly, still a little drowsy from passing out. I spot a poster on the wall, directly in front of me. It's a poster listing various Mutts. Did they put this here on purpose? Do they mean to taunt us tributes by plastering what could be the cause of our death on the wall? I hate Mutts, I always have. It's a lazy way to kill off unfavored tributes. Just leaving them in the arena to slaughter each other mindlessly wasn't enough, let's add genetically created fleabags to tear tributes apart. Another cruelty of the Gamemakers, and I reason I hate the Capitol.

"Astelle Landers, your first visitor," says a female Peacekeeeper, and she leads my aunt Elodie into the room, whose face is red from the cold as well as crying. We both hug each other, but she quickly pulls back and stares into my eyes.

"Stel. You are a strong young lady. I have complete faith that you will make it back. Do you know why, Astelle?" she asks. I shrug. She leans into my ear, and whispers "Because you are Victor material, Astelle Landers."

I start to giggle, a little flattered. Aunt Elodie is almost never wrong. I could only hope I was correct on that one.

After Aunt Elodie leaves, a group of twenty-plus kids, my schoolmates, pile into the room. They are all saying goodbye, wishing me luck. But they are not going to let go of the fact that a strong, eighteen year old boy carried me to this room.

"Was he even more handsome in person, Astelle?"

"How strong were his arms?"

"Are you going to be his ally?"

I'm getting a little annoyed. I'm heading to my death, and these girls are gossiping like we are still at school. After a few minutes of mindless chatter, they are escorted out. I'm told the train to the Capitol leaves in ten minutes.

The walk to the train is long and dreary. Flashes invade my eyes, people trying to take pictures of me for their tabloids. Here, starvation occupies us. There, it's the latest gossip and rumors. Sometimes I wish I was born in the Capitol. At least I wouldn't have to worry about my name being drawn from that damn glass bowl.

* * *

 _ **Kean Avrett, 18**_

 _ **The Stone Boy**_

* * *

Cold gusts of wind blow through my hair, and the crowd of District 10 is silent. You could hear a pin drop. The silence becomes oppressive almost, and as me and the female prepare to go offstage, she suddenly faints. She nearly falls off the stage itself, almost instinctively, I catch her light body before it hits the sharp gravel. The poor girl is probably scared out of her wits. She's so young, too. For some reason, I feel the need to protect this innocent girl, who, according to the slip still clutched in the escort's hand, is named Astelle Landers. I swear someone named Elodie Landers attended the fight club I used to hang out at. Maybe they're related. I'll have to ask her later, if I work up the courage too, and if she isn't too shocked from being Reaped. I'm hoping Astelle hans't suffered a head injury or something, because that would be bad. "Get her to the goodbye room, stat!" shouts the mayor, and I lift the girl's body up, tiring somewhat as we finally reach the Justice Building's goodbye rooms. I try to gently set her down on the couch, and I see that she is regaining consiousness. She starts to rub her head, and in response, I quickly leave the room, so I can say goodbye to my other half, who I will be nearly incomplete without.

Damien.

He comes in as I start stratching the surface of the wooden coffee table. We both right away, but something much more passionate follows, a long kiss, something that been hard to come by from Damien lately. But now that I'm going away, forever, he will have trouble finding another lover.

"Damien," I start, "I want you to know that if I don't back, don't feel obligated to not see anyone ever again," I tell him, and in response, he starts to sob.

"No, don't," I say, rubbing his shoulders. "Don't."

He continues to sob, and it's clear that he is getting nowhere. "Just..." he says, blubbering. "Just please come back, Kean. I'll never find someone like you again. Please."

Suddenly, he gets up and anticlimatically storms out of the room, leaving me with more words still on my lips. I bury my face in my hands, softly sobbing. The door opens again, only this time, it's my entire family. My parents and my siblings, Doren, Michaela, and Luke.

"Keanie, no!" shrieks Michaela, my only sister, who is fourteen. "Don't go, Keanie! Please!" My brother Luke, also 14, sits himself on my lap, and I huff, a little unprepared for how big Luke has become in the last four years.

Lots of sobs and tears of anguish fill the room, and we all just hold each other, unwilling to let go. Finally, after a while, my mother pulls back and takes something out of her pocket. It seems to be a watch of sorts.

"Take this," she says, sliding it on my wrist. "It used to belong to your father. Now, wear this at all times in the arena. So you will now what time it is." She said this a little strangely, but I won't doubt her. We all hug for a few more minutes, and before I know it, the Peacekeepers are coming to take them away. As the door slams shut, I can hear my parents trying to say that they love me before tey are thrown out into the streets of District Ten, where they will all return to their jobs as butchers. It's strange, because after the Reapings, life seems to go back to normal instantly. The two kids sent to their deaths are almost completely forgotten about until the cannon that signifies their death is heard on every speaker in the district. Then, their body comes back, still and pale, sometimes unrecognizable. Five years ago, the female, Jessenie, came back in ribbons.

It's probably the state I'll be returning in.

* * *

 _ **District 11**_

 _ **Quincianah "Quincy" Aubergine, 12**_

 _ **The Tiny Girl**_

* * *

"Quincianah Aubergine!"

"Oh, no, not that tiny girl," mutters someone in the crowd. That makes me angry. I hate being looked at like I'm useless bloodbath fodder. I'm more than that. I'll show them.

"Alright, you two! All that remains here is the goodbyes, then we can get going to the Capitol!" our escort, dressed like a fruit, says excitedly. I'm anything but excited to go to that awful city. There have been rumors all over school that the Capitol looks just like Hell. Fiery gates, lava, red sky. It's just that; a rumor, but it doesn't stop me from becoming very, very afraid.

I'm grabbed by my thin forearm and taken to an unknown place, probably to the room where I will get to say goodbye to my family before they take me away. The thought of never seeing them ever again makes tears form in my eyes. We are led down a long, expansive hall where a Peacekeeper woman keeps a tight hold of me. After reaching the end of the hallway, she opens a rich oak door for me, revealing a small room with many chairs.

"Sit," she orders, and I do, settling on a green chair by the large window. She tells me that I have visitors and that because they are "pressed for time" I will only have 15 minutes. I just stiffly nod and her, and the door slams shut. Sitting in this cold, airless room is causing my panic to rise. I don't think I've fully registered the fact that I am going into the Hunger Games. I'm going to die, and it's going to hurt.

 _No, it won't, Quincy,_ I tell myself. I'll just get a knife to the gut or an arrow to the neck. It will hardly hurt at all. I'll slip away by myself, in peace...

"Quincianah?"

I hear a familiar voice, the voice of my mother. She comes in first, followed by my father, and my triplet siblings, Cherry, Clementine, and Pea.

"Please don't call me that, Mom," I snap. She scowls at me, but this is no time to be sour to each other. It's the last time we will be in each other's presence.

"I'm sorry, Quincy," she says, holding back tears. She buries her face in her hands, and my dad holds me as he strokes my short cut hair.

"Quincy, what just happened to you is a parent's worst fear. Don't give the Capitol what they want. Be you." My father's last words ring in my ears long after he has said them, and as my six-year-old siblings hug and kiss me for what seems like forever, they are suddenly escorted out. After a few awkwardly silent minutes, the door opens once again, and I'm full-out sobbing as I see my friends, all boys, come in, their faces just as tear-streamed as mine. Fructus, Crispin, and Lemon. They all embrace me, creating a warmth I have never felt from these boys. Crispin pulls back and takes a shaky breath, tears dripping onto his overalls.

"Quincy, if you leave, who's going to run the playhouse?" he asked. I had almost completely forgotten about the playhouse. It's something that binds the four of us together, something we could always count on to let us have a few minutes of peace and relaxation. Now it will serve as nothing but a grim reminder of what once was.

"You will play in it without me," I say quietly. The entire rest of the goodbye consisted of crying, whispering, and shallow breathing. My best friends are taken away, and it becomes clear to me that my life is pretty much over.

"Come, Miss Aubergine. Galvan Clearcreek's goodbyes have concluded, so it is time to board the train." says a Peacekeeper that entered without me noticing.

"Great, I get to go to Hell." I shoot at him. His face contorts into a disgusted frown.

"My, district people are stupider than I thought. You, coming from this backwater district, shall enjoy the comforts of the Capitol."

"Like hell I ever would," I snap, pushing him out of my way and preparing for my journey to death.

* * *

 _ **Galvan Clearcreek, 17**_

 _ **The Savior Boy**_

* * *

I can see my father's unhappy frown from here onstage. I don't know what he's so surprised about. I made it clear that I was going to volunteer. My family wouldn't have survived another week if I hadn't. The thirteen year-old who I volunteered for is slinking back into his section, murmurs erupting. Considering the vast amount of rigged Reapings in our current time, I wouldn't be surprised if that same kid's name was pulled out of the glass bowl a second time just for a few laughs in the Capitol.

The escort, whom I'll just call Strawberry, since she is dressed as one, starts clucking about who-knows-what. Before I'm aware of it, I'm being harshly dragged by my arms into the Justice Building, where my dad shoots me one last mean glare before the doors swing shut.

My fellow District partner, Quincianah, seems like she wants to cry, but holds back tears. After the reality of this hits me, a few escape my eyes as well. But I quickly wipe them away as a door is opened for me after a few minutes of walking. This is probably where I say my farewells to my giant family. I wonder if this small room will fit them all. My father enters first, followed by my 14 brothers and sisters. They all pile in the compact space, reaching at me and trying to get one last hug. Tally, my only older sister, kisses me on the forehead.

"We love you," says Tally sadly, and after her warm goodbye, thirteen others follow. Juju asks me to score high. Duran tells me to not die in the bloodbath. All of my precious siblings' warm wishes overwhelm me with heartache and grief. I was practically abandoning them, but not for long. I was going to come back, with a Victor's crown on my head. With food for them to eat. That's something they need more than anything.

As soon as all my siblings file out, my father remains, his arms crossed. The same frown he shot me while I was onstage is in my sights once again.

"Galvan, what were you thinking?!" he shouts, towering over me. I try to keep my composure, and stay calm.

"We're about to starve, Dad! If it weren't for the tesserae, we would be dead, and getting more tessera would put my brothers and sisters at risk of going into this death match!" he tell him, my voice raised as well. My dad is steaming. He can't stay prideful forever, my youngest brother, Barry, is on the brink of death. Hopefully, our sympathetic neighbors can feed my family until I get back.

"Son..." he says, trailing off. "If food is what we really need, I would have just stolen crops from the farm," he says in a small voice, but I just shake my head in response.

"No! You would have gotten so many lashes, you would have never been able to work again!" I argued. He just hangs his head, unable to speak.

"Come home, son," he mumbles, getting up out of his chair and turning away, wordless.

"I will, dad! That's a promise." I say to him, and all he does i response is turn back to me, a tired expression replacing his formerly angry one.

"But is it a promise you can keep?"

* * *

 _ **District 12**_

 _ **Lizereth Onne, 16**_

 _ **The Snake Girl**_

* * *

"Martina Hepburn!" the funny-looking woman onstage cries out. No. It can't be. Martin, my snake, couldn't have been Reaped. He was only a snake. Martin would have never made it in the arena, with all the big boys and girls. I have to help. I have to save him.

"I... volunteer!" I shout in my loudest voice possible, which is barely above a talking voice. Every turns to me, looking as me with horror. I don't know why they look so scared. I was just saving my pet from impending doom. I was being a good mother, wasn't I?

I shuffle my feet as I hop up on the chipping concrete stage, grinning. My Martin is safe. I'll be going into the arena for him. He'll be fine.

"Oh... the first volunteer since almost thirty years ago! Well, why don't we give this brave young lady a round of applause!" cheered the funny woman. The people in the crowd clap slowly and awkwardly. I swear from when I watched the bloody Games from the 74th, no one clapped for the volunteer girl. They just raised their hands, making some kind of signal. It was probably rebellious, because it was banned from there on.

"Do I get to see my Martin before I leave?" I ask the woman. She just stares at me, confused.

"Well... you will get a few minutes to say goodbye to your family! Is that would you want, dear?" she asks me. I happily nod in return. After me, another person is picked. I believe his name was Henerik Sarafian. He's a tall boy, with curly brown Seam hair contrasting my stringy blonde locks. He lets out of few tears of anguish and grief before the strange lady starts to clap.

"Citizens of District 12, I present to you; Lizereth Onne and Henerik Sarafian!" The applause returns, slow and ample. The doors behind us are opened, and I'm walked down a large hallway into a plushy room.

"Miss Onne, you have two visitors." says a bulky man who peeked his head in. I nod curtly, and my parents are brought into the room with me. I'm not too happy to see my not-so-nice mother, but I am absolutely delighted with the special someone in her arms. Martin.

"Hi, buddy!" I say excitedly, stroking his scaly skin. His forked tongue sticks out at me, and I giggle like a little child.

"I managed to get him from the house," my mother muttered. I'm surprised, because I can't remember the last kind thing she ever did for me.

"Thank you." I say, looking up at her. She begins to cry, hugging me tight while stroking my hair.

"I'm sorry for everything, Liz," she whimpers. "I just never thought it would come to this." We hold each other, poor Martin squished between us. I ask where Father is. Mother says he had to work on the day of the Reaping, in the mines. As per usual.

"Tell him I said I love him," I whisper, kissing my precious Martin one last time.

"Little guy, I may not come back, but I hope you know that I will always love you with all my heart," I say to him. He doesn't respond, but I'm certain he heard me. My mother tearfully rises with Martin in her arms and leaves almost as quickly as she came. Soon after, the same Peacekeeper from before barges in and tells me that it's time to go.

I wordlessly stride the streets of Twelve along with my partner, Henerik, and a crazed crowd of people dressed similarly to the woman from the Reaping stage. They are asking me all sorts of questions but I don't answer them, remaining mysteriously silent.

"Miss Onne, who is Martin?" one of them asks. I turn to him, my green eyes full of confidence.

"He's my snake. And I volunteered for him."

* * *

 _ **Henrik "Rik" Sarafian, 16**_

 _ **The Tough Boy**_

* * *

"Do I get to see my Martin before I leave?" asks Lizereth Onne, the District 12 female.

I'm a bit confused at this statement, because you always get goodbyes before being transported to the Capitol. But something seems off about this girl. I can't quite put my finger on it, though.

The escort, a tall woman with swirly purple hair, cackles and reassures her that she will get goodbyes. This calms Lizereth down somewhat, and a happy smile is now plastered across her face. She has the appearance of a ghost, almost. Pale skin. Thin blonde hair. Beady eyes. I tempted to ask her for an alliance the moment we board the train.

We are taken to the Justice Building, where I will get to say my final words to my parents and friends. I am despising the moment I will have to say goodbye to my best friends Ace and Lucia. Ace is my drinking buddy, he often smuggled the stuff for me when I was starting to experience slight withdrawal, and Lucia Geovani is a Peacekeeper. She protects Ace and I, since we commit many crimes under the Capitol's noses.

I'm thrown into a nice-looking room, where I take a seat at a couch located next to a large bookshelf. My almost non-existent parents will be here soon, followed by Ace and Lucia. I'm already preparing what I'm going to say to them.

But I never get to say them.

Minutes pass, and I start to get a little worried. Maybe my parents had to work in the mines today, I don't really care about that. but what is taking Ace and Lucia so long? Worry starts to creep in the back of my head, traveling to my eyes and letting a few tears escape my eyes. I try to calm myself down, I try telling myself that they will be here soon. Maybe Ace was too drunk to convince the Peacekeepers that he knew me. And maybe they didn't believe the fact that a Peacekeeper befriended a sixteen year-old boy.

The chances of me getting visitors is starting to slip away as the time passes. To occupy myself, I take a large book off the shelf. I open it to see that the pages are completely empty. So the books are just for show. Strange. The Capitol hardly gives the Districts any informational literature. It's pretty much all fiction, usually involving a "happily ever after" ending. How ironic that what little books the Capitol provides us always has a good ending. That's pretty much the opposite of what the districts are truly like.

After fifteen minutes pass, I'm positive I will have no visitors at all. But as I begin to bury my face in my hands, the door opens. I sis Ace? Lucia?

Nope, it's just a Peacekeeper. I wonder what he has to say.

"Mr. Sarafian, I have come to inform you that Jacob Rennington and Lucia Geovani have been tried for theft after witnessed recalled Geovani allowing Rennington to steal many bottles of spirits. You have been convicted of the same charges, but you have been Reaped, so as a result, charges against you are automatically dropped. They are to be hung tomorrow morning."

I can feel my jaw dropping. My friends, my only friends, are going to die. Because they stole alcohol?

"And in addition, your parents were killed in a mining accident late last night. I'm sorry." he says stiffly. He clicks the door shut, while an empty shell me sits in a room alone, unable to process the fact that my friends are going to die, my parents are already dead, and that I will be joining them soon.

* * *

 **There's the goodbyes! I'm so, so sorry this was a day late. I try to keep uploading regular but sometimes life just gets in the way. But now that you have met all the tributes, I will open a poll for your favorite! The winner's submitter will receive an incentive that I will mention later, but for now, go and vote! Thank you for reading, and please, please review! It really helps. Again sorry it's out so late, I accidentally deleted half of it. :(**

 **-Maia**


	6. Trains 1-6

**Here is the first half of the train chapters. The other half was split because I wanted to post something. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Victoria Rochas, 16**_

 _ **District 1 Female**_

* * *

Ever since we got on the train, the escort has been endlessly babbling about how "splendid" the Capitol was and how much we would enjoy our time there. I personally cannot wait to step into that gleaming Training Center and show those scrawny outliers that I am someone they need to fear. The escort left to go fetch our mentors, Borealis and Arista. My parents told me to save my appetite for when I get to the Capitol. But, behind their backs, I snuck a snadwich because I get cranky when I'm hungry. All of this seems like a pleasant dream I never want to wake from, but if I win, this dream will never end.

Iridi, my District partner, hasn't said much since we've been here for almost an hour. I've just been staring out the window, and he's been watching some Capitol talk show on the giant monitor in front of the large couch.

"So, Victoria," says Iridi out of the blue, "Is it okay if I call you that?" he asks.

"Sure," I reply, grinning. He shifts in his plush chair, rubbing his neck. "Why are you entering the Games?" I hesitate before answering, but I suppose telling my own District partner about myself wouldn't hurt.

"Glory, I guess," I try to say not too confidently. "And I have to hurry up, because I have a recital in a month." Iridi looks confused.

"A… recital?" he asks, tilting his head. I giggle a little louder than I intended, standing up.

"A dance recital, silly. I'm a ballerina," I say softly, stretching. I grab Iridi's rough hand, and he starts to protest.

"What are you-?" he begins, but I cut him off.

"I would go crazy if I didn't get to dance at all before the Games. Want to dance with me?" I ask him. I really would like to have a dance partner, and he seems nice.

"Sure," he sputters, and I pull him into an empty hall of the train. He places his arm around my waist, and I position my hand on his shoulder. He began to waltz, not caring if we missed a few steps or if I went too fast for Iridi. We enjoyed ourselves. Suddenly, he lifts me up, spinning me around as if I'm light as a feather.

Soon enough, Iridi gets tired and plops down on the couch.

"Sorry," he pants, red as a beet. "I don't normally get tired so fast," I wipe some of the sweat from his forehead, giggling.

"Maybe it's just your nerves?" I suggest.

"Yeah," he responds, "Just nerves."

Arista comes out of nowhere, smiling. "Aw. Do I see my two lovebirds already bonding?" she teases. I quickly push Iridi away, which causes him to crash into a pot, which is filled with frothy pink liquid that is now flowing down his head. Arista starts to chuckle, and even I suppress a few laughs. But Iridi keeps smiling, a smile that told me he was someone I could trust.

* * *

 _ **Calix Livianus, 18**_

 _ **District 2 Male**_

* * *

Our mentor, Spatha, says she is going to take a shower.

"Lucullus and I will be with you guys in a few. Talk with each other, get to know each other better." she intructs. Spatha leaves the living room cart, heading to her personal cabin.

"Since I'm the alliance leader and all, we should talk strategy." I tell her. Cerys rises from the chair next to me, and sits herself in one on the other side of the room. I'm expecting her to speak, but she says nothing.

 _Why did she move away from me?_ I ask myself. Maybe she's just afraid of me. That puts her on the level of some scrawny outlier, but I'm sure she will get used to me eventually.

Awkward silence fills the room, save for the faint sound of the water running. Cerys gets up, at first, I thought to move closer to me, but she just gets herself a glass of water and sits back down in her chair, away from me. I don't know why this Cerys girl will not talk to me. She has her back turned to me, sipping from her cup of water silently. All because I tried to tell her that I was the alliance leader?

"Hey," I yell out to her. She doesn't respond. I try holding back my anger for her, but I only have so much patience for someone who should be listening to me. This girl wasn't very big, nor intimidating. It may be an act, but Careers from District 2 don't pretend to be weak. Besides, she volunteered! She had to be in it for the glory, and any other reason is probably just as stupid as her.

"Hey, you!" I shout again, louder this time. She turns to me for a split second then immediately breaks eye contact.

"Excuse me! You aren't talking to me, and I won't take that from you!" Cerys gets up and faces me.

"Why? Why do you get to be the leader?" She asks angrily. I stand up as well, towering over her.

"Because," I spit at her, "I attended the biggest and baddest academy in Two. You're the crop of some measly private academy." This makes her steam, and soon, we're full out yelling.

"Oh, yeah? If you payed any attention at all, asshole, you would know that the private academy produced a Victor almost every year!" she proclaims in a very loud voice.

"Almost," I shoot back, "You're the one who doesn't come back, Cerys Asana." Soon she is clawing at me, but I know I can't hurt her. That will hurt my image.

"Hey, hey, hey!" exclaims Lucullus, my mentor. He is followed by Odessa, the escort lady who reminds me of a cupcake. Lucullus is separating us, forcing us into our rooms. That doesn't matter, though. What matters is the fact that when she scores a three in training, that helpless little girl will be on her own.

* * *

 _ **Danylo Sepia, 17**_

 ** _District 3 Male_**

* * *

Gratiana and I are both scared out of our wits, so to calm ourselves, we have just been stuffing food in our faces, terrified.

"My gosh," says Gratiana, with a mouth full of some fruit. "This is so sweet."

"Too sweet," I say, setting my fork down. "Are you nervous?" I ask her. She tenses up momentarily, the lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah," she says tiredly. "I am really afraid to die, to be honest." She takes a large gulp of water and tries to stop herself from shaking. Before I know it I'm shaking, because the thought of your own life ending on the point of some Career's sword, bleeding out in the grass as they marvel in how "epic" their kills were. The thought makes me want to throw up.

"I'm really, really scared, too," I say shakily, but soon an idea pops in my head.

"What is it?" asks Gratiana, as if she could sense my intrigue. I turn to her, smiling.

"We should be allies, Gratiana," I tell her. "We're both scared out of our minds, we're both outliers, we would make a great team. I know we would."

"Well, I, um," she stutters, but then looks relieved. "Sure, why not." she says happily, and we shake hands. It seemed we were a team, and a good one, at that.

"Did I just hear somebody make allies?" says our female Mentor, Digit. "District allies are always a good thing. They are 57% less likely to break early on."

"Well," says Gratiana, confidently. "I trust those numbers."

"Good," she replies. "Treat each other well. What are you going to name your alliance, you two?" Digit asks us. We ponder for a moment, before Gratiana lights up.

"Scared Straight?" she suggests. I give her a thumbs up, and she chuckles.

"Scared Straight. I sure am." she says sadly.

* * *

 ** _Teila "Tiger" Kaley, 16_**

 ** _District 4 Female_**

* * *

As the wide, blue oceans disappear from my sight, my thoughts immediately go to Rayden. His look of complete shock when I mounted that stage destroyed me inside. When he has to see me die on TV, from the comfort of District 4, I have a gut feeling that he will be joining me in death.

"So, Teila," says Gleyn, my District Partner. "I know you might be a bit scared, having been Reaped and all, but don't be. You can still be in the Career pack if you want."

I honestly resent the idea of being with the Careers, because I'm not a real Career. But being with them could save my life.

"Oh, okay," I say shyly. "That's… very nice of you." To cut off the awkwardness of the conversation, the escort for District 4, Claudia, hops into the living room and seats herself on the plush, green couch.

"Oh, I'm so excited for you two! Do you know that this is a chance only the luckiest of kids get?" she says happily. But I'm anything but happy. And it comes out at her.

"Hey, lady, I'm still a little pissed off from being Reaped. So leave me alone right now." I snap at her. She just stares at me like a pile that her pink dog that she is snuggling with might leave on the sidewalk. I just roll my hazel eyes at her, clicking on the TV. It's showing two women dressed as swans giggling and chatting. The Reaping Recaps are in two hours.

"Well, your mentors Sirena and Mariner should be here soon. I wonder-"

"Here I am!" Sirena O'Hara, a scarred but whimsical girl, prances into the room in a similar fashion to our crazy escort. She pours herself a glass of punch and slumps down on the large couch next to us.

"Hello, Mr. Bersond and Miss Kaley! I'm Sirena, and I'll be your mentor for these Games!" she muses, almost beaming. Her grin is wide as we all see Mariner Deepwell, our other mentor, enter the room, barely awake, casting off a much different energy than Sirena.

"It seems her Royal Highness is awake," he mumbles, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, plops down in a leather chair next to the couch.

"Someone's a little sleepy!" teases Sirena, and Gleyn chuckles slightly. Even I snicker. Maybe this won't be so bad.

* * *

 ** _Turmeric "Meric" Saucer, 17_**

 ** _District 5 Male_**

* * *

"Make yourself at home! I will fetch your mentors so you guys can have a little team chat."

The escort lady hops off into the Mentor's cabins, which are rumored to be far more luxurious than the ones provided for the tributes. Still, this train is more luxurious than anything I have seen in my life. Crystalline silverware is provided, along with silk placemats and napkins. I figure I should at least enjoy myself while I'm here. A part of me wishes Colleen were here, because I'm sure she would have plenty to say about the food. I would, too.

I stride over to the bread baskets, where all sorts of breads from different Districts has been provided. Sugary star-shaped bread from One, green seaweed bread from Four. But at the bread at the end of the table interests me. It's puffy and white, fancy stuff the districts could never afford to eat. I take a bite, and soon, I'm devouring the entire thing.

"Delightful," I swoon, savoring the puffy pastry. Tyssa turns to me, munching on the same food. "Isn't it good?!" she asks with her mouth full. I nod at her, just as Finch

Tyssa is munching away at the food provided, but I can't stand to look at some of these. They look like they were done by a blind Capitolite with their hands tied behind their back.

"Ugh!" I cry out, plugging my nose over the scent of some of the so-called "appetizers" prepared by the chefs here, if I can even call them that.

"Who is the chef here? I would like to have a word with them," I declare, searching around the train for a kitchen. At the end of the hall, I see a door with a fork and knife on it. The kitchen. I push the metal doors open, and am met with confused gasps. I just keep going, until I am on the opposite end of the kitchen.

"Who is the main chef at this establishment?" I ask, and in response, a tall man who very much resembles Mr. Ratatouille, save for his blue skin and spiky orange hair.

"That would be me," he says, stepping out in front of me. He folds his arms, scowling. "What do you want, boy?"

"I want to show you how real food is cooked," I say sternly, and he laughs in response.

"Why should I let you? You're just some random District kid. You know nothing about culinary arts. What advice should I take from a kid who got spaghetti sauce all over his clothes?" he scoffs. I notice smoke rising from a pan behind him.

"Well, for starters, don't leave food unattended while on the stove, sir," I retort, and soon he is rushing over to the pan, dumping water on it in a hope to put it out. As I turn to leave, he gives me one last glare. I chuckle as Tyssa is waiting outside for some reason, giggling.

"What did you do in there?" she asks, her eyes wide. I walk past her and slumps down on the couch.

"I taught someone a lesson, Tyssa."

* * *

 _ **Kyva Ruun, 13**_

 _ **District 6 Female**_

* * *

Styx hasn't talked to me since we were Reaped. He has just been sitting on the couch, his arms crossed. I so badly want to ask him what the Hunger Games are, but I can't do it if he's going to ignore me. But I know someone who can't ignore me.

"Mrs. Harriss! Mrs. Harriss!" I yell out, trying to locate the tall woman who accompanied us. Not the one who looks like a colorful bird, the other one.

"What is it, Kyva?" she asks breathlessly, having run here from the other side of the train.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," I say shyly. She pulls up a chair next to me, sitting in it backwards.

"Sure, honey." she says sweetly. I let out a deep sigh, giving her a sideways look.

"What happens in the Hunger Games?"

Mrs. Harriss hangs her head, letting her dirty blonde hair fall in front of her face.

"It's a deathmatch, Kyva. 24 of you go in. One comes out." Her vague explanantion still leaves me curious.

"What do you mean? One comes out?" I ask her, starting to sweat buckets. She looks up to me, a weak smile on her face.

"23 kids die, Kyva." is all she says.

After she explains it to me, I expect myself to cry. But I don't. I just sit there, my expression blank. Is this what my parents were trying to hide? Is this why I have never watched a single Hunger Games to date?

"I... I have to go," I sputter out, and sprint away to my cabin, diving onto my plush bed, crying.

"No, no, no, no..." I whimper, my cries turning into sobs. I hear a knock at the door, but they enter without me even responding. It's the escort woman.

"Please, Kyva, don't be upset. This is a chance to prove yourself. Show Panem what you are really made of!"

This just makes me sob even harder.

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait again! I temporarily lost motivation but with the holidays, it actually gets me in good spirits. :) I kind of lied, this is only a train chapter, but I didn't want to pack too much in one chapter. Next will be 7-12 trains, then the next chapter will be chariots, for sure! In other news… alliances. All the tributes don't see each other till the first day of training, so if you want an alliance, PM the creator and let me know! The Careers are automatically an alliance, so no having tiny girls from 11 ally with the boy from 2. :) And, Danylo and Gratiana are already in an alliance, since they both have only one creator who wanted them to be together. And again, sorry for the shortness of chapters. I will try to work on it.**

 **And… think that's it, and I will see you next time!**

 **-Maia**


	7. Trains 7-12

***gasp* Early?! Well, I have a lot of free time. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Oakley Gunderson, 16**_

 _ **District 7 Female**_

* * *

My mentor, Everesta, has just been cradling for comfort as I try to keep my tears at bay. They come full force once the green of the trees is no longer in my sight. My home is gone.

"I know it's hard, Oakley," says Everesta, stroking my red hair. Through my teary eyes I see Grover walk in, with a sandwich in his hand.

"Hey, guys! I'm presuming Miss Gunderson here is crying tears of joy. I almost want to, but that would be-"

I begin to weep even louder, and the moment Grover drops his sandwich, a horrified look players itself across his face.

"Oakley, hey, what's wrong?" Grover asks, his tone dripping with concern. Everesta scowls at him, and he recoils.

"She just got Reaped, what do _you_ think is wrong?" Everesta screechs at him. I wipe away my tears, sniffling. I don't want to come off as weak, especially not to a boy who is most certainly a Career. I'm not a Career. That damn Aspena had to fall ill. Now me, an inexperienced girl who likes to take care of her family, is going into this death match.

"I'm fine," I say confidently. "I'll be okay." Grover approaches me and gives me a tight bear hug. Suddenly everything feels warm.

"Of course you'll be okay," he says softly. "Because you'll be in the Careers."

I look up at him, my jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Yeah," he says, plopping down in a chair. "I'll convince them to let you in somehow, after I score an 11 in training and all."

I give him an amused look, and he grins at me. "What? Do you really think I can't do it?" I stride over to Grover, lightly bonking him on the head.

"I'm sure you can." I tell him.

* * *

 ** _Lyndon Orange, 16_**

 ** _District 8 Male_**

* * *

The escort did not immediately notice I was blind, so she had to lead me all the way to the train amidst the chaos. I could feel greasy hands trying to get a feel of me, but why? I have never understood the Capitol.

"Bored, Lyndon?" asks Incense, the girl who was Reaped alongside me. I let out a deep sigh.

"I guess. Being on the train taking us to our death takes a lot out of you." I say tiredly, running my fingers through my hair. I hear Incense giggle slightly, and after that I swear I feel her scoot closer to me.

"Well, you're in luck. I know you can't see but you don't need to for this." she says mischievously. I perk up at her.

"What? What is it?" I ask her, and she chuckles in response.

"I"m going to tell you the story of the mermaid princess."

I scratch my head in confusion, looking in her general direction. I ask her what a mermaid even is, because I really don't know. And does she have an answer.

"A mermaid is a mystic being, with a human upper body but the tail of a fish for legs. They swim in the deep blue sea, living in harmony.

Sounds a lot better than my situation.

"The mermaid princess wanted to be human. At all costs. So, she traded her voice for a chance to dwell the land with human legs to walk on. She met a prince, and they fell in love. But, being a human caused her much physical pain. The one who gave her human legs, the Sea Witch, said that if his blood stained her feet, she would be a mermaid again and allowed to see her family. The mermaid couldn't bear to kill him, so she killed herself and turned to sea foam." I'm expecting to hear more, but she is silent.

"And then what?" I ask her, hoping for an answer I want to hear.

"That's it," she says nonchalantly. "It ends like that. Sad, isn't it?" says Incense dryly. I hear her get up and exit the room, seemingly to find the bathroom. But I'm just sitting here, pondering over how the mermaid's end was so tragic. Much like mine will be.

* * *

 ** _Citlali Kenyie, 15_**

 ** _District 9 Female_**

* * *

"Atticus?" I ask gently, as if trying not to disturb him. "Atticus? Are you okay?"

"Leave me alone!" Atticus yells, sending a cup flying in my direction, but I easily avoid it. He just curls back up in a fetal position, facing away from me. I want to talk to him as I would to troubled kids from the orphanage, but he's older. Something must have happened to him to make him not trust anyone. I wouldn't. Still feeling bad, I decide to try my luck at him.

"Atticus Faux," I start, in the loudest voice I can without scaring him. I see him look up for a moment but curls back up again.

"Atticus! I don't know why you are like this but you got Reaped. And there's nothing you can do to change that. All you can do is keep your head up." Strangely enough, as I say this, he glances up at me, his face deathly pale.

"You don't understand," he says coldly, "Nothing is going the way it should be. Nothing!"

He buries his face in his sweaty palms, silently crying. Our escort, Octavius, hands him a silky handkerchief, only for him to slap it to the ground. Octavius sighs in disgust, picking it up and setting it on the table.

"Uncivilized district citizens have no manners," he snaps, "I was doing you a kind gesture." Petal, Nine's Mentor, walks in and notices Atticus's tears. She rushes over, as a Mentor should, and tries to comfort him.

"There, there," she coos, stroking his hair. "It's going to be alright."

I can't imagine the number of times she has had to do this, comforting sobbing kids who return in an oak coffin a week later. I always thought being a Mentor simply meant a chance to meet tributes and enjoy a lavish Capitol vacation for a week. But all it is is sugar coating death, and painfully so.

After Atticus continues to sit solemnly, I begin to feel bad for him. Something bad must have happened, and I think I want to find out what. But he'll only tell me if I gain his trust.

"Hey," I say shakily, "I know you are scared, and so am I. But I think we would be better off as allies." I stare at my feet, expecting silence as an answer, but I'm pleasantly surprised.

"Yes," he says, his voice devoid of any emotion.

* * *

 _ **Kean Avrett, 18**_

 _ **District 10 Male**_

* * *

I flip through the channels on the TV, finding nothing good. Astelle has been snoozing on a love seat adjacent to me. I wish I could sleep, too, to calm myself down, but my every living thought flies to Damien. I hope he is doing oaky.

I see Astelle begin to stir, and she finally rises.

"Morning," she says, but then looks horrified. She frantically looks around, the slumps down, looking deflated.

"Oh," she says flatly, "I forgot that I was Reaped for a second. Damn." She curls back up on the couch, sighing.

"Wake me up when the food's ready," she says, and almost three seconds later, I hear her snoring again. As I surf the channels once again, I see something that causes tears to form in the corners of my eyes. A fight, broadcasted from the District 10 fight club. Lately, the Capitol seems to enjoy this event, finally finding some source of entertainment besides the Games. They seem to love watching anything involving injuries and death. Damien and I's favorite thing to do was watch fights, sometimes participate if we were feeling lucky. It was our go-to date night. I wonder if he will continue to go to fights.

But I gasp in horror as I see the very person I was thinking of in the crowd, moments after the thought of him left my mind. It's Damien, but at the same time it's not Damien. There are drooping bags under his eyes, even though I have only been gone for a few hours at most. There are definite tear stains on his face, soon matching mine as my hand flies to the screen. Suddenly, after the contending champion Vera Horowitz has been knocked to the floor and carried off, the winner walks off the ring and the announcer Takes her place. It takes no time at all to realize what he's doing.

"District Ten, as you know, two young people were taken from us today. Kean Avrett, age eighteen, and Astelle Landers, age fifteen. These two will always been remembered by friends and family, and we wish them both luck."

The crowd begins to clap, and the camera pans on a woman who I am assuming is Astelle's mother, but the next shot shatters me. It's my family, all holding each other, their eyes red and puffy. But when I see my Damien, he is shaking and crying. After that, as if he can see me and I can see him, he blows a kiss to the screen. I catch the invisible kiss, cherishing it forever.

* * *

 _ **Quincy Aubergine, 12**_

 _ **District 11 Female**_

* * *

My district partner, Galvan, is muc taller than me. In fact, he's so tall, he has to duck in order to pass through most doorways. He says he is going to hang out in his room, leaving me in the room alone with District 11's Mentors, Liam Aldair and Autumn Lee.

"So," says Autumn, "how are you holding up, Quincianah?" I cringe as I hear that name again. I have never liked it. I was going to legally change my name to Quincy once I turned 18, but I guess that's not happening.

"Call me Quincy," I tell her. She curtly nods at me, smiling. I turn to Liam, who is gnawing on a groosling leg. My stomach growls, and I realize that I haven't eaten since the smuggled corn I had for dinner last night.

"Mr. Aldair, where did you get that groosling?" I ask, my belly rumbling even more fiercely. He laughs out loud, nearly choking on his food.

"It's actually this bird called pheasant," he chuckles, and vaguely points in the direction of the buffet, still being set by Avoxes. I rush over with a plastic plate, just as Galvan comes out of his room, as spots the freshly set food.

"Oh, sweet," he muses, grabbing a plate as well, but as his large hand rushes over to grab the last pheasant leg, so does me, laying awkwardly on top of his.

"S-sorry," I say sheepishly, but he sets the fried bird down on my plate, giving me a warm smile.

"No, please, you take it, ma'am. I insist." he says softly. Surprised at the kindness coming from a boy with this menacing of an appearance, I make a gesture of thanks to him and rush to the table. Autumn joins me, grinning from ear to ear.

"I know him. His family used to live my mine before I was Reaped. He was always the sweetest boy, doing whatever he could to provide for his family." She takes a sip of what I'm assuming is alcoholic, and gently places the glass cup back on the table.

"People are broken from the horrors of Panem. There aren't a lot of people like him out there anymore." she says glumly.

* * *

 _ **Henrik Sarafian, 16**_

 _ **District 12 Male**_

* * *

I've just been sitting here, on this plush sofa, ever since the escort threw me on the train along with Lizereth. She hasn't done much, either, aside from muttering about someone named Martin. Probably her boyfriend or something, since she was asking about him right after she got Reaped.

"Henrik, do you think Martin will be okay?" she asks out of nowhere. I just turn and give her a confused look.

"Who is this Martin?" I ask, curious. She begins to blush, swaying herself.

"He's my pet snake," she proclaims, "I snuck over the fence and found him in the woods. Mother was going to cook him in a stew, but allowed me to keep him after I convinced her that he was a good rodent killer," she says warmly. I just nod, but soon the mentor Asche is here, planting herself in a rich wooden chair and rapping on it.

"Where's dinner? I'm starving," she complains, playing with a silverware set. Strangely enough, plates filled with steaming food rise from the table, and Asche is grabbing at it before any of us could get settled.

"Hold on a moment, Asche! I have to sit down, too," says our escort, sitting at a chair next to Lizereth. As soon as we're all eating, I notice that Lizereth hasn't touched her food.

"Are you alright, dear?" asks the escort.

 _Yes, escort,_ I say in my head _, she is alright. It's not like she has just been sentenced to death or anything._

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, I just don't like meat," she replied, almost in a whisper. She further sunk down into her seat, but soon Asche is handing her a plate of some vegetable.

"There you go. No meat here," she says kindly, and soon Lizereth is nibbling away at it, like a bird.

"Thank you," she says between mouthfuls, soon polishing off her greens.

After dinner, we are forced into our rooms for the night, because we have a "big, big day" tomorrow. Hooray.

* * *

 **Yay, train chapters are over! Next will be chariots. I have gotten some alliance PMs so far, which rocks! I will post them all once training starts. But when making alliances, don't be afraid to ally with someone from outside your district! Also, from now on, POVs won't be presented in such a linear fashion. It will just be pretty much random, except for maybe if your tribute hasn't gotten a POV in a while. There will maybe be three at most in a chapter, but we'll see. Be on the lookout for the chariot chapters, and I will see you next time!**

 **-Ruby**


	8. Remakes and Chariots

**Chariot chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Gleyn Bersond, 17**_

 _ **District 4 Male**_

* * *

Teila trails behind me as we both get a good look at the large building that is the Remake Center. We are going to be made over here, and frankly, I'm looking forward to receiving a Capitol treatment. Teila, on the other hand, hasn't stopped complaining about how "atrocious" their waxing system is. I, myself, have heard that it doesn't feel pleasant, but pain is beauty.

"Here we are, children!" Sirena squeals, after we have made our way through the adoring crowds that greeted us the moment we stepped off the train. One even gave me a balloon with my face on it, and Teila received a rose. I can only hope all this attention doesn't go to my head, but it's all a little overwhelming. Sirena tells us that we will be dressed for the chariot rides here, which take place in a few hours.

"This was one of my favorite parts of being a tribute," she tells us as we enter the large building. I can see District 6's tributes being led into an elevator across the room, and I swear the boy glares at me. I maintain my composure, because now is not the time to go berserk.

"Please enjoy yourselves. I will see you two after the parade!" Teila looks confused.

"You aren't going to see us off?" she asks. Sirena shakes her head sadly.

"Unfortunately, I have some business I need to take care of. Mariner will be doing that." Her phone rings, and she clicks on it as she waves at us and strides away, talking to some unknown person over the phone.

A Capitol attendant grabs me by the arm and leads us to the same elevator the Six tributes shot up in moments ago. Teila steps inside, revealing an Avox hidden in the corner. He presses a few buttons and they flash, sending us flying. In less than a minute we are at the designated floor, and Teila is taken away by her attendant. I'm led into a cubicle, where they tell me to sit on the table until they're ready. But

"Okay," I say to them, and I sit myself on the cold metal table, where I stay for an awkwardly long time until three women dressed as fruit come in, the largest one in an orange suit flashing me a toothy grin, revealing that they are coated with glitter.

"What a handsome lad! You would expect no less from District Four," the grape woman chatted, while they began work. The apple begins to slather a some sparkly oil over every part of me, which was supposed to make me "shine like the sun" but in reality made me feel like a greasy pig. I'm thrown into a sleek tub filled to the brim with a pink liquid, which burns the second I make contact. I feel somewhat like exploding at these ladies and running away, but I have to stay calm, I don't want to make them upset.

"Oh! We should so try this!" one of them exclaims. Without warning, a red hot lotion is being squirted on my head, and it takes everything I have to stay still. I'm starting to get a little upset myself.

Then it was the dreaded waxing; or at least waxing of my body. They wanted to keep my face intact because they thought my slight facial hair was "robust". Tears are pricking from the corner of my eyes as one strip after the other is forcefully pulled off, leaving a sore, red rectangle where my follicles once were.

Finally, it's over, after what seemed like an eternity.

"Please go wait in the room down the hall to the right, and your stylist will come for you and dress you in your outfit, dear." Grape instructed. I numbly nod, and the three women trot off in a ridiculous fashion. I shuffle down the hall until I reach a door marked "4M", and I push it open to reveal a room with no windows and that smells strongly of disinfectant. I hop up on a table, rapping on the side until the door is suddenly opened, causing me to jump slightly.

"Sorry, deary, didn't mean to scare you. I am Serenelli, your stylist for the Games." She kisses me on the cheek out of nowhere, and I recoil, but I don't wipe the kiss off in an attempt to keep the mood stable.

"Now, I have your costume. Are you ready to see it?" she asks me excitedly.

"I am," I say with as much enthusiasm as my voice will allow me. She leaves the room for a moment, returning with a bag in her hands. Serenelli unwraps it, revealing a hot mess.

All it is is sparkly scales. But the only area it covers is my groin. And to go along with it was nothing else but fins, because they are literally dressing me as a fish.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" she asks, obviously expecting the answer she wants to hear.

"It is," I say through my teeth. "Very… creative."

She lights up and happily clasps her hands together.

"Oh, I knew you would love it! Now, I'll need you to get dressed quickly, and if you need help, just holler. Serenelli prances out of the room, leaving me alone, with a goddamn fish costume in my hands.

Once I finally manage it get it on, it's uncomfortable as all hell. I feel like I can't breathe in it, but I'm sure I'll get used to this feeling eventually. It was only for a few minutes, and while we're riding the chariots, I doubt I'll be able to feel a thing.

"Done?" she asks through the door. In response, I open it, and she hops up like a little kid catching their first fish.

"You look ravishing!" She takes my arm and leads me down the same elevator I rode up in, where we shoot back down and are now in the loading area. A clock on the wall reads 5:31 counting down, revealing that the chariot parade must start in around five minutes. Along with all of the tributes, I see their mentors chatting to them, while they all look incredibly scared. Except the Careers, who are chatting it up at District 1's chariot. I can barely remember all of their names from the Recap, but I approach them anyway. I see Teila with them.

"Hey, this must be the Four man himself!" says the boy dressed as a tree, who I'm guessing is the District Seven male. "I'm Grover." I shake hands with all of them, revealing that their names are Victoria, Iridi, Cerys, Calix, Oakley, and Grover.

"Tributes, please board your chariots. The parade will start in one minute." says a mechanical voice over the speakers.

"Oh, I gotta go," I tell them, Teila rushing over to our chariot, talking to Mariner. I head over to the Four chariot, where I finally notice that she is dressed as a sailor. I guess I'm the fish she's catching.

"Wave a lot, never stop smiling. And don't fall out, unless you want a few sponsors who take pleasure from your embarrassment," he tells us. Loud trumpets blare out, signalling the start of the parade. We are the fourth to leave, and I can see Cerys and Calix giving some kind of salute instead of waving. I let the bright lights shine on my face, where a vacant smile has plastered itself as I wave to the screaming crowds.

* * *

 ** _Tyssa Woods, 15_**

 ** _District 5 Female_**

* * *

I keep pulling up my silver dress, because it's way too big. The stylists overestimated my size and a dress that was supposed to fall to my knees now goes halfway down my calves. Turmeric is a chef of sorts, but his face is covered in red stuff. I'm not sure if it's blood or tomato sauce, but it looks fitting for a chef if it's just sauce. If it's blood... you might want to stay away from the chef who can handle sharp knifes and has blood on his face. That would be a funny villain.

The loud music spooks me a little, but I try to keep waving instead of covering my ears, because that would chase away sponsors if they thought I was looney. I just keep waving, trying to look like I'm having fun. Our chariot turns a corner, and someone throws me a white flower. I sniff it, giggling, and throw it to a little girl sitting in the front seats. Turmeric suddenly pulls something out of his jacket, a box. He opens it, revealing fancy-looking truffles. He grabs a handful and throws it into the crowd, where they eagerly grab them and stuff them in their mouths. I would laugh if they all suddenly dropped dead. Instead, they look like they are in total bliss as they chew slowly.

After Turmeric has thrown his food into the seats, the crowd is going wild for him. He smirks at them, as the chariot pulls into the City Square, as it was called in TV, where I see the rest of the tributes pull in. I make extended eye contact with the female from 8. We finally break it once President Aloe comes onstage, smiling.

"What a beautiful sight this year," she muses, looking down at all of us. "Welcome, tributes, to the 110th Annual Hunger Games!" The crowd erupts into shouting and cheering that is way to loud, where she holds up her hand in a gesture for them to be quiet.

"These young people have chosen to risk it all to honor those who lost their lives in the rebellion," she says benevolently, "and those who fought in it. Thank you, tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor." Wild applause is heard along with trotting hooves of the many horses now pulling into the Training Center. There, Finch and Blaze are waiting for us, a happy smile across Blaze's face while Finch is eyeing us intently.

"You two were AMAZING! Now, let's get you out of those costumes and upstairs so we can watch the recaps of the chariot rides!" We are led into an elevator on the far side of the hall, where I see some Avoxes smiling at Turmeric. He winks at them before the doors slide shut, the trip upward taking less than five seconds.

"You have now arrived at floor five," says a tinny voice, and the doors open to reveal what is possibly the fanciest-looking living room I have ever seen. The Justice Building was nothing compared to this.

"Now, I would get dressed out of those costumes while the food is still warm, you too," Finch tells us. Turmeric grins at the prospect of food, and he runs off to his room, labeled "T. Saucer". I go into the one with my name on the door, opening the door and revealing a large bedroom drowned in moonlight. The bed has magenta-colored throw pillows piled on it, and I grab one and angrily throw it across the room. The dresser is tall, almost reaching the ceiling, so I open a drawer filled with airy blouses in various shades of blue. I remove my oversized dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear. I slip on the blouse and some gray yoga pants. Suddenly an Avox woman appears, picking up my discarded costume and carrying it off to some unknown place. I exit my room, where our mentors and Turmeric are already at the table, where Turmeric is taste-testing in a similar fashion to the way he was on the train. I start picking at some kind of meat, but it's sphere shaped and has a mountain of gravy erupting from a hole, where vegetables are floating in a pool of gravy flowing from the top.

"You have to eat something, Tyssa," Finch tells me, my stomach begins growling fiercely. I gingerly take a bite, and my senses overload with flavor. Soon enough, after a few bites, my stomach is full to bursting. It's probably because Capitol food is so rich. The same trumpets from the parade are heard through the television speakers, and Finch strides over to the couch.

"It's starting, you guys!" Blaze screeches, and we all pile around the TV on our wide, plushy sofa.

"Welcome, one and all, to the chariot recaps of the 110th Hunger Games! Here, we will see our tributes in person for the first time, so our eager sponsors know who they want to represent!" Behind the two announcers, the first chariot is seen, District One.

"Here comes our first Careers, District One's Victoria Rochas and Iridi Lotu!"

Victoria is dressed in a golden toga bedazzled with yellow jewels, and she is waving almost princess-like. She seems very graceful, and if her main motive wasn't to kill and kill more, she seems like she would be a good friend, considering she's only one year my senior. Iridi is dressed in a golden speedo with multi-colored gems, and a matching crown and red velvet cape. He's a little flashy, but I guess that's the point for District 1.

"The mighty pair from Two, Cerys Asana and Calix Livianus!"

The two tributes everyone always fears rolls out, looking as menacing as ever in their gladiator costumes. I dn't know if it was intentional or not, but Cerys bumps Calix in the hips. He glares at her momentarily before turning back to the crowd. Calix is a beast, standing at at least a foot taller than, who isn't short herself. They will both be huge threats.

"District Three's own Gratiana Brindle and Danylo Sepia!"

Danylo and Gratiana are holding hands, but it seems like it's more out of fear than affection. They are both wearing suits with binary code on it, and I don't quite understand it until the announcer tells us that it's binary code for the word "victorious". Clever, but these two's chances at Victory seem slim at best, as are mine. I can see Gratiana talking to Danylo but I couldn't make out their words.

"Teila Kaley and Gleyn Bersond from District Four!"

The fish district produces something strange. The girl is in a sailor costume, with a fishing pole in her hand, but the boy is nude, save for a scaly loincloth. He is also wearing fish fins on her hands and back. If it weren't for the fact that District 4 tributes were Careers, I would almost feel bad for the boy. Even the girl looks like she wants to be somewhere else. My heart skips a beat as the next chariots come out.

"The tributes from Five, Tyssa Woods and Turmeric Saucer!"

It's a little strange seeing myself on TV, but there I am, happily waving to the crowd. If I didn't know any better, I would think I wanted to be there, with the way I presented myself. The announcers are chatting about Turmeric and how "charming" he was, in giving food to the crowd. I'm guessing that move will earn him tons of sponsors, because I'm quickly forgotten. I'lll probably be known as little more than Turmeric's partner during training.

"And now here comes District 6, little Kyva Ruun and Styx Gasket!

The Six tributes come out, dressed as hovercraft. So, I guess nothing else is new. The girl looks scared out of her wits, as I would expect from someone so young, but the older boy looks like he wants to rip something apart. That's expected, too, because being paraded in front of thousands of hungry Capitolites doesn't exactly put you in a good mood.

"The Lumber District's tributes, Oakley Gunderson and Grover Ridley!"

District 7 is dressed as trees. Their costumes were lackluster as usual but the tributes themselves were interesting. The girl looks slightly unconfident, given that she was a Reaped tribute rather than the usual volunteer, but the boy is holding her hand, but unlike Three's tributes, he's acting like more of an anchor to the girl. I wonder if they are still allies.

"District Eight's Incense Vasquez and Lyndon Orange!

Incense and Lyndon are dressed in cotton outfits, which don't hold my attention for long. Even the cheering has been reduced to polite clapping, but Lyndon seems... off. His partner is whispering in his ear about something, and that's when I realize the boy is blind. His eyes are pale grey, but almost seem like glossy pearls more than irises. That will be a huge disadvantage to him, not being able to see, but if this has affected him his whole life, at least he won't have to see the horrors of the Games.

"There's the tributes from District 9, Citlali Kenyie and Atticus Faux!"

Citlali is dressed in a wheat stalk skirt, which is, considering what most Nine tributes wear, cute, and the boy, Atticus, is wearing a black suit with flashing lightning bolts on it, giving it the look of a storm. Citlali seems like she's trying to smile, but just can't. Atticus, on the other hand, is giving mean looks to the crowd and isn't waving at all. Unfortunately, that will scare off sponsors for sure.

"Astella Landers and Kean Avrett from District Ten!"

District 10 scares me for sure. The girl is grinning menacingly at the audience, in her cow outfit, while Kean, the boy dressed as a bison, is towering, rivaling the height of Calix from Two. Hopefully these two don't butt heads at training, or it may end up in Kean's head littering the field around the Cornucopia. You think a tribute with high odds and a high score who isn't a Career would make it far, but the Careers' strategy is to eliminate the strongest and the weakest. And Kean is a huge target for the Careers right now.

"Riding out next is Quincianah Aubergine and Galvan Clearcreek from District 11!"

Quincianah and Galvan from 11 ride out in very different costumes. Galvan is dressed in yellow at our, exposing his rather muscled arms. Quincianah is rather tall for a twelve year old, nearly rivaling Galvan in height. She is simply dressed as corn, and by the look on her face, she isn't enjoying it. Blaze, who has been silent the entire program, tells us that these two may be good allies. I nod at him as the last chariot comes out.

"Last, but it looks like not certainly least, Henrik Sarafian and Lizereth Onne from District Twelve!"

Of course, the poor tributes from District Twelve are nude and covered in coal dust. Luckily, Lizereth was allowed with wear shiny black undergarments, but Henrik is completely nude, with a black bar covering his groin area. I can't begin to imagine what it looked like in person. Lizereth is just smiling and waving as if nothing is wrong, but Henrik isn't doing anything at all. Just staring ahead, not acknowledging the crowd.

After the announcers sign off, Finch yawns and ties a nightrobe around her.

"I'm going to bed," she says tiredly, looking at Turmeric and I before she enters her room.

"Rest up. Your first day of training is tomorrow, after all," she mumbles before slamming her bedroom door shut. Blaze waves at us as I close my bedroom door, diving onto the bed and curling up. No matter how comfortable this bed is, I will not be able to get any sleep tonight.

* * *

 **Whew! Chariots are over! These were super fun to write. Sorry there were only two POVs, but I figure training chapters would have way more. Also, I'm not sure how I'm going to do a sponsor system, but I will probably be review-based. Anyway, look out for the training chapters! :)**

 **-Ruby**

 **P.S. Thank you so much for 50+ reviews! :)**


	9. Training Begins

**Training Day 1! Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Danylo Sepia, 17**_

 _ **District 3 Male**_

* * *

My eyes lazily flutter open, and without warning, I fall off of my bed, even though it could fit five more people. I tenderly rub my head, which is throbbing from the impact of hitting the floor. I glance at the clock, which reads 8:14. I know training starts at nine, so I have a few minutes. I get up and crawl to the bathroom to take a shower.

I walk into the shower, and see the wall of buttons in front of me. There's roughly three hundred buttons there, each one probably performing a different function. I look closer, and see the buttons have different coloured rings around them. These colours create three columns. I press the top blue button, and a freezing cold jet of water blasts at me. I press it again, turning it off. I press one in the middle of the column, and a warm stream of water flows down. Good, that's one thing sorted. I press one of the red buttons, and an orange foam erupts from the floor. It smells like oranges. I try a green button, and various sponges begin to wash me with the orange foam. I'm then rinsed off. I open the shower, and something's off about the room. I look closer, and see one of the tiles on the wall has slightly shifted diagonally, and something is reflecting the light. I step out, and more tiles open, warm air blasting my head. It stops after a minute, and I grab a towel just as one is thrown at me. _So even the bathrooms are rigged with unexpected secrets._ I walk back into my bedroom, and find the training outfit. I look around my room, searching for some way it could have gotten in, but find nothing. I put it on, as an Avox comes out of nowhere and collects my sleeping clothes. I yelp, which causes the Avox to make a frantic gesture of apology.

"It's okay," I try to tell him but he starts to sweat heavily, shuffling out of my door as quickly as he came. I still don't know why they are so scared of a positive reaction. I guess I don't know what the Capitol does to them.

I finish combing my hair and open the door of my room. I stride down the hall, passing another Avox, into the dining room. Gratiana, my new ally, is already there, alongside Digita, eating their breakfast.

"Danylo, as much as this is going to make me sound like an escort, rising late isn't good when you have training." Digita says as she takes another bite of her breakfast, a steaming omelette. I take a slice of toast, and begin to gnaw on it, thinking about how training's going to go. I might only stick to survival based stations today. I'll try my hand at a weapon tomorrow.

"So, what are you going to be trying in training?" Gratiana asks, her voice shaky.

"I'm just gonna do survival. You can join me if you want." I say, and she smiles warmly at this. Our escort then bounds into the room, looking slightly irritated.

"We should have left for training ten minutes ago! How did I manage not to stick to my schedule?! Finish up, you two!" I eat the remainder of my sweet bread roll, placing the empty dish in front of me.

"You there! Take this tribute's plate and dispose of it!" I'm about to ask her what's going on inside her tiny head when I'm aware of another presence. I glance to my right, and standing right next to me is the same Avox from my room. He picks up the plate, then, as silently as he arrived, he leaves.

"This is disastrous! We should have arrived at training five minutes ago! How on earth did I manage to not stick to my schedule! Come on, before the day is over!" She drags Gratiana and I to the elevator, and furiously punches the buttons. It flies down at a remarkable speed, stopping abruptly at the training centre. We're pushed out, and the elevator closes. Already the tributes have dispersed around the various stations. I look at the survival stations and find the camouflage one free.

I run over to it, as if it'll vanish in the next few seconds and pick up a paintbrush. I begin to paint my arm to match the rocky backdrop. At first, I have the wrong shade of grey. I try several lighter and darker shades, but to no avail. I look closer, and finally see what's missing from my paint. There's a faint hint of red in the rock. After washing my last failure off, I grab the red paint, and add a small splash of it into my current mixture of paint. I grab the brush again, and carefully apply the paint to my arm. Once my forearm is covered, I put it next to the backdrop. It blends almost perfectly. Satisfied, I wash the paint off and leave the station. I walk across the training room, just as the lunch bell rings. Gratiana joins me at a table nestled in the corner, away from the Careers. She is eating some kind of stew, while I had gotten a chicken breast smeared in a dark sauce.

"What did you do, Gratiana?" I ask her curiously. She sways herself a little.

"I had gone over to the snares station, and she said I was a natural with traps. I'll probably present that in training." she says cooly. I nod, taking another bite of my food. I glance over to the Careers, who are laughing and joking as usual. Other tributes are sitting in clumps together, but there is one tribute who is sitting alone. Incense from 8.

"What do you think she's doing by herself?" I ask Gratiana. She shrugs and immediately continues eating. I'm sort of interested in that girl.

 _Ring!_

After around fifteen minutes, the bell announces that lunch is over, and I see that the assault course, the nearest Career on the other side of the room. Now is my chance. I approach the trainer, who is a tall man with spiky blue hair. He tells me that I have 2 minutes to make it across the course. It ends when I fall off.

"Ready... go!" he shouts, blowing a piercing loud whistle that attracts the attention of almost everyone. Just great.

I sprint down the first stretch, jumping over the obstacles with relative ease. I turn to the left, keeping my pace, and receive a club to the face. All feeling in my face turns to agony, and as I stand, I notice the flow of blood from my nose. I cover it with my hands, but that just succeeds in dying my hands blood red. One of the trainers gives me a small pill. I swallow it, and the bleeding stops immediately. I make my way to the bathroom, and wash the blood off my hands and face. As I walk back into the training room, I see the Career tributes staring at me, and laughing. But the girl from 1 looks at me sadly. Instantly I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

"Well, you certainly made an impression," Gratiana mutters, who has appeared out of nowhere. I just grunt at her, and decide to hide at the edible plants station. But someone else joins me shortly after; Incense.

She wordlessly begins toying with different bugs, and I start up a giant computer, and a yellow insect with black dots shows on the screen. Three options are shown. Safe, Deadly, or Varies. It looks like a ladybug. I don't think they would be poisonous because they are so small. I hit Safe. A giant red 'X' flashes on the screen. I hear a dry chuckle from behind me.

"Eating that would kill you faster than nightlock," she says flatly. The next bug shows on screen, an identical one but red instead of yellow. She clicks Safe, and a green check mark shows.

She backs away from the screen and heads over to the camouflage station I was just at. I smirk at the girl. She seems smart, but unfortunately, her wits would probably go to waste in the forsaken bloodbath. As will mine.

* * *

 _ **Tiger Kaley, 17**_

 _ **District 4 Female**_

I try to keep my distance from Calix and Cerys, because I am really starting to get sick of them. Victoria announces that she is going to try some survival stations because she is pretty confident with her weapon of choice, a whip. I nod to her, passing Oakley and Grover doing an ax throwing station. Oakley nearly hits the center, but instead hits the red around it. I ask Iridi if I'm in the Careers, but I don't receive the answer I exactly wanted.

"To be in the Careers," he starts, "you have to prove yourself."

I just shrug, heading off on my own. What does that mean, proving myself? I knew it meant scoring high, but I don't know if I can do that. Gleyn, who has been trailing me, tells me that he is going to the tridents station. I want to try with a weapon, too, but not a trident. I want to be different. I spot an empty spears station in the corner. I'm a little surprised it's vacant, but some of the Careers, including Iridi, Calix, and Cerys, have migrated to the sword fighting station. The outliers are huddled in various survival stations, where Victoria is instructing a scrawny outlier from 6, the girl. I stride over to the spears station, where a trainer waits.

"Hey," I say to the trainer as I approach the spears station. The trainer is a tall woman, with midnight black hair and red tattoos on her pale skin.

"Ready to train?" she asks, and smile deviously.

"Hell yeah, I am." I spit out, and grip the cold metal spear, a little surprised from it's weight. She snatches it from my hands almost immediately, though, which angers me.

"Do you know how to work a spear?" she asks me, but gasps as she sees the silver '4' on my arm. She apologizes, and we get to the good part right away.

"You're the expert, can you tell me if I'm doing it right?" I ask her.

"Of course. I'm more than happy to assist you," the woman replied as she walked across to the other side of the station, and after careful examination, selected a spear from one of the many shelves. She walked back to me, and gave the my eager hands the weapon. My left hand closed around it, welcoming the ice cold metal.

"Thanks," I utter to the woman, and began to walk towards a collection of targets, when the trainer placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I have to inform you that you may only train with the spear alongside a partner," the trainer said.

"Oh, wonderful," I mutter under my breath. And then, to the trainer, "Really? So, will you bring in some person to train me?"

"Normally for novices, yes," the trainer said. "You are a trained Career, of course, so I believe it would be beneficial if you were to directly engage with me."

I'm guessing she doesn't know that I'm not a Career, but I feel like getting this show on the road.

"Huh," I replied, before my face settled in to a cocky grin. "Fine then, let's do this!"

"As you wish," the trainer replied, pulling out a spear of her own. And then, without warning, she jabbed the spear at my body.

I barely had time to dodge as the trainer advanced. I ducked in order to avoid another blow from the woman, before tightening her grip on her own spear. I leaped up, and flung her spear to the trainer, who parried her blow with her spear. The two of us were locked in combat, neither side showing resistance. And I quickly recognized how similar this was to the sword fighting I tried before lunch, only it was easier to deliver a decisive blow, which meant it required you to be on your feet at all times if engaging someone in spear-based combat.

The trainer weakened her grip, and I took this opportunity to thrust forward my spear. But the trainer gripped it mere inches before it would have impaled her face. I grinned, and pulled back, panting for breath.

"Heh, this is actually kinda fun!" I said, eyeing up the trainer's every motion.

"I'm glad you think so," the trainer replied. "Although, just remember that in the arena, this won't be a mere exercise; your life will be on the line."

"Blah blah blah, got it!" I said, before moving out of the way of the trainer's thrust. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and dripped off my face. This was more exhausting than it looked. In fact, I was considering giving in, when I heard voices from behind me. It was a boy's voice, but I couldn't tell who it was.

With a hardened resolve, I rush towards the trainer, and shove my spear forwards, but my blow was blocked yet again. I cursed under my breath, before pulling back, and whilst the trainer was still deciding her next move, rammed my spear forwards with all my strength.

I knew I had made a huge mistake when I heard the groan of pain from the trainer. I looked up, and saw that my spear was digging into the side of the woman. Blood dripped from the wound onto the floor.

"Oh my god..." the trainer uttered. I immediately pulled the spear out, causing more blood to spurt. The trainer backed away, and, whilst still groaning in agony, pressed a button on the wall. Almost instantly two Avoxes came scurrying from seemingly nowhere, and carried the trainer away. I just stood there, awe-struck at what I had done.

"Whoa," a voice from behind me said. I spun around, and dropped the spear into the small puddle of blood on the floor. It was Iridi. "That was pretty awesome there." I froze for a moment, but my brain was whirring at a hundred miles an hour.

"Really?" I shrugged. "It wasn't that big a deal, really."

"No big deal?" he replied, smiling. "Man, having the guts to actually injure a trainer? Color me impressed. You're in, Teila."

* * *

 _ **Prosperina Dew, 28**_

 _ **Head Gamemaker for the 110th Hunger Games**_

* * *

I nod approvingly as the Careers excel at the swords stations. Cerys effortlessly beheads a dummy and Calix dismembers it to finish it off. I snicker as they kick it to the ground, the same way some outlier's life is probably going to end. My fellow Gamemakers are already creating odds for them, and by the time the final bell rings, they should be up for me and the tributes to see.

Turmeric from 5 is laughing with some outliers around a fire at the cooking station. He presents a perfectly cooked turkey, which the tributes applaud at. I scribble down some notes about him.

 _Culinary experience maybe._

"You all should try," he tells the outliers, "because you all seem like cooks to me!" Laughter erupts, attracting the Career's attention.

"Trust me, I can't cook," says the girl from 10, "but I can carve a turkey like nobody's business." Turmeric giggles at her, slapping her on the shoulder playfully.

"Well, if you run into me during the Games, I can fire that bird up for you." His group continues to joke and I decide to focus my attention on someone else, maybe a loner.

I spot the female from 9 attempting to blend her arm in with a tree, but it doesn't blend in that well. The rest of the Gamemakers snicker at her failed attempt, and she shoots them a deadly glare. I just roll my eyes at them, and begin to pick at the food from the banquet provided. Suddenly, I hear a moan of pain, and it seems the girl from 4 has sunk her weapon into a trainer. Two Avoxes carry her away, and I stare at the girl, stunned. This girl wasn't a volunteer, but she seems capable of it. I remind myself to observe her closely.

"Prosperina," says Marc, a fellow Gamemaker. "You have to handle the bets, remember?" I yelp out loud as I realize that. I was supposed to present the first odds today, and he would seemingly handle that tomorrow.

"Crap," I mutter, grabbing my purse and sprinting out of the loft overseeing the Training Center. "I'll see you all tomorrow. I trust you will handle everything up here?" I ask them. They all nod eagerly.

"Of course, Miss Dew, we will take excellent notes of every tribute." muses Laurel, the Mutt designer. I scurry out until I reach the end of the hall leading to the training center, to the main lobby of the Training Center, where people are already betting on their favorites. I enter a room marked "Gamemakers Only" and identify myself to the guard.

"Hello, my Lady," says a guard. I giggle, walking up to him.

"Must we be so formal?" I ask him, and he relaxes a little. I head over to a giant computer, tussled in the corner, and click it on. I sign into my account, and a tinny voice sounds.

"Welcome, Prosperina."

I open up a file with all of the tributes' names, ages, heights, weights, etc. Their slots are empty, for now. I start with the female from 1. Her bets, sent to me by the betting managers, are 5-1. Now it's the boy from 1.

...

After hours upon hours of copying and pasting, my work is done. I click a button with an arrow on it, sending the odds to the database. I push open the door back into the lobby, where the impatient citizens are presented with the first odds of the Games.

 _1F- V. Rochas, age 16: 5-1_

 _1M- I. Lotu, age 17: 4-1_

 _2F- C. Asana, age 18: 4-1_

 _2M- C. Livianus, age 18: 3-1_

 _3F- G. Brindle, age 17: 22-1_

 _3M- D. Sepia, age 17: 21-1_

 _4F- T. Kaley, age 17: 10-1_

 _4M- G. Bersond, age 18: 5-1_

 _5F- T. Woods, age 15: 31-1_

 _5M- T. Saucer, age 17: 19-1_

 _6F- K. Ruun, age 13: 49-1_

 _6M- S. Gasket, age 16: 25-1_

 _7F- O. Gunderson, age 16: 26-1_

 _7M- G. Ridley, age 17: 3-1_

 _8F- I. Vasquez, age 16: 28-1_

 _8M- L. Orange, age 16: 48-1_

 _9F- C. Kenyie, age 16: 30-1_

 _9M- A. Faux, age 16: 28-1_

 _10F- A. Landers, age 14: 27-1_

 _10M- K. Avrett, age 18:_ _14-1_

 _11F- Q. Auberine, age 12: 50-1_

 _11M- G. Clearcreek, age 17: 16-1_

 _12F- L. Onne, age 16: 40-1_

 _12M- H. Sarafian, age 16: 29-1_

* * *

 **Alliances:**

 **Careers: Victoria, Iridi, Cerys, Calix, Teila, Gleyn, Oakley, Grover**

 **Meric and Tyssa**

 **Atticus and Citlali**

 **(sorry if I forgot any)**

 **Training Day 1! Sorry it was so short, but there will be more training to come before the private sessions. And sorry for the wait! School has been catching up to me. Also, although I've gotten some requests, don't be afraid to ally with someone outside your district! Alliances aren't essential for a Games, they are just fun to write. Oh, and if you wanna name the alliances, just let me know. Expect Day 2 of training soon!**

 **-Maia**


	10. Foggy Dreams

**A short chapter, about the night before the second day of training.**

* * *

 ** _Kean Avrett, 18_**

 ** _District 10 Male_**

* * *

After a waking up from a bad dream, I find myself up in the middle of the night. The dream still resides in my foggy mind in fragments, but has mostly been forgotten. I cling to one part of the dream I can remember, the part where Damion walks out on me. I can't remember what he said, but in the dream, I think I came home, and he was with someone else. I was barely holding back tears, and he just laughed, his arm around a tall, muscular figure. I banish thoughts of him from my mind, because that's all behind me. Damion will be there when I get back. He will.

I realize I've just been sitting here, and I force myself up. My throat is bone-dry, so I leave my room to find something to drink. An Avox is standing outside my room, stiffly and silently. I turn to her, somewhat concerned.

"Go to bed," I tell her, but she frantically shakes her head. She opens her mouth, no sound coming out. She then walks over into the kitchen, grabbing a small piece of paper and pulling out a pen from her pocket.

 _Night-shift_ is written on the paper, and I nod to her and continue forward. I notice a light coming from the living room, and notice that the TV is on, playing some cooking show. I click it off, only to find Astelle sprawled out on the couch. I don't want to wake her up, but at the same time, she looks kind of cold. I go to the Avox woman, who has returned to her post.

"May I get a blanket, please?" I ask her, and she opens a closet across from her and fetches a large, puffy blanket.

"Thanks," I tell her, tiptoeing back to my partner, as if I'm afraid of waking her up. I drape the blanket over her somewhat small frame, and she begins to stir but goes still after a few seconds. I exit the living room and head into the kitchen, and I find a timer on the wall.

8:29:13 UNTIL DAY 2 OF TRAINING

I recall the day before. I mostly worked alone, because I have no interest in allies. It can be comforting to have someone with you in the arena, but they make the supplies run out twice as fast. And you never know when your life will end with their blade in your throat as you are sleeping.

I approach a large machine on the wall, with multiple buttons on it. I don't really know which one to press, so I just hit a few of them in a row, which causes it to start beeping. I yelp, trying to shut it up, but the Avox comes and fixes it, I'm not exactly sure how. All she did was press on the screen a few times. I sheepishly grin at her, and she gives me an unimpressed look. We just stare at each other awkwardly, until she angrily points at the machine. Asking me what drink I want, of course.

"Oh! Anything is fine," I mutter, and she rolls her eyes and hits on what looks like some sort of fruit drink. A cup pops out of the machine, followed by a stream of purple liquid that fills the cup to the brim. I carefully lift it, to find that the Avox is already standing outside my bedroom again.

I gingerly take a few sips from the cup, lowering the volume enough so that I can walk with it. I slump down at the empty dining table, gathering my thoughts. I don't think I've fully registered the fact that I'm going into the Hunger Games. But I need to, if I want to make it home and return to my boyfriend.

 _But what if he's with someone else?_ says the thoughts I had tried to bury in the corner of my mind. No, he wouldn't do that. But if I died, the first thing Damion would do is try to find a new boyfriend. I try to tell myself that I would do the same if he was Reaped. But would I, really? I guess I'll never know. Another reason these Games absolutely suck.

* * *

 **A pretty short chapter, the night before Day 2 of training. I wanted to get something out while I'm working on the next chapter. Sorry if it seems like there isn't enough character development in some tributes, but keep in mind that they just got here. Changes in their personality probably won't happen until a later part of the Pre-Games or Games themselves. Anyway, I'll see you next time! :)**

 **-Ruby**


	11. Yes, Your Majesty

**_Iridi Lotu, 17, District 1 Male_**

* * *

I groggily wipe the sleep from my eyes as the clock beeps loudly, intending to do so until my fist bangs down on that off button. I do just that, silencing it until tomorrow. The clock itself tells me that I have a few hours until training, so I rise and open my bedroom door, shivering as a gust of cold air blows on me.

I realize that it's coming from an open window, allowing the crisp air to get inside. I quickly shut it, taking in the Capitol's skyline. It's multi colored, almost like a rainbow. Besides the fact that this city is filled with idiots, it's picturesque.

"Iridi? What are you doing up?"

Arista's tired voice fills my ears, and I turn around to see her rubbing her eyes while tying a nightgown, her caramel brown hair a mess.

"My clock woke me up," I tell her. "And I want to chill a little before training." Arista gives me a sideways look.

"Here, all of your focus should be on training, Iridi." she mumbles. I scoff at her, slumping down in a chair.

"Can't a man have fun? It isn't even the Games yet," I retort, my back facing her.

"Don't come crying to me when you score an 8." she snaps at me. I make an exaggerated gasp.

"Why, that would be a personal insult!" I sit back in the plush recliner, ignoring Arista's demands and insults.

"Not listening, not listening, not listening…" I babble at her, plugging my ears.

* * *

 ** _Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female_**

* * *

I had woken up awhile ago, watching the morning news of some Capitol network. Their main focus right now is the Games, of course, and they are exhausting the topic. Endlessly quacking about how the Careers looks so "badass" this year, and how there are so many. I just click the TV off, putting on my socks.

"Quincy! Are you awake, dear?" our escort asks me.

"I am now," I mutter through the door, finding that breakfast is already laid out.

"Galvan has been waiting for you," she tells me, and I see Galvan at the table, politely eating his breakfast with utensils, in contrast to how I dine, simply shoveling the stuff in my mouth with no silverware.

"So, Quince," Galvan asks me, "what are you going to focus on today?" I just shrug, taking a bite out of an apple.

"Eh, not sure," I say with a mouth full of apple, "I might just do survival. The Careers won't like the sight of a twelve year old trying out weapons," I complain. I mostly hid yesterday, because I am a little more scared of the Careers than I thought.

"We can do it together, the Careers won't bother us if we look confident and aren't alone." he suggests. I light up, beaming at Galvan.

"That would be great!" I say happily, finishing my breakfast. I notice the absence of someone who should be with us at all times.

"Hey, where's Autumn and Liam?" I ask the escort whose name I can't seem to remember. She tells me that they are out on "business" but I'm having a hard time believing that.

"Oh, okay," I say, seemingly not caring. Galvan says we should get down to training. I wave goodbye to the escort, hopping into the elevator, pressing a button marked TC, or "Training Center." We whoosh downward, Galvan hanging onto the railing for support. I notice when we are side by side, strangely enough, he isn't much taller than I am. I maybe reach his shoulders, but luckily, I'm not the smallest twelve-year-old in the Games. The girl from 6, who's 13, is smaller than me, even.

The main trainer does not repeat her speech as it is the second day, but reminds us that the private sessions are tomorrow. The tributes disperse, spreading to different stations. Galvan and I tag close to each other, and I instantly relax.

* * *

 ** _Lyndon Orange, 16, District 8 Male_**

* * *

Breakfast was fine. Chiffon suggested that I didn't go to training at all. Is this woman nuts? I'm not sure that she realizes that this few days could save my life. She kept telling me to "make a statement". I don't think I'm as rebellious as her, or my mom.

I hear the doors slide open, which took my partner and I to the Training center. Incy, as she told me to call her, holds my hand and guides me to what I am assuming is the snare-building station.

"It is," Incy assures, grabbing my left hand and touching it to rough wood.

"See?" she asks. I jokingly shake my head, and she just scoffs. The trainer at this station explains how to snares work, and I admittedly doze off.

Stop it, Lyndon, this could save your goddamn life, I tell myself, forcing my brain to pay attention to this somewhat drab lesson. But Incy seems to get it, because I keep hearing her mutter in agreement. I try my best to retain the facts thrown at me, like how much wood to use, how tight to make the ropes, how visible it should be.

"Now, you try." the trainer lady tells either me or Incy. Silence fills the air until Incy tabs my shoulder harshly.

"You," she whispers, and I jolt up, blindly feeling around me until my hand enclosed around a piece of wood.

"Now, do as you were instructed." says the trainer.

I carefully bind the wood together with thin rope, tightening it, and so on. I am helped by my partner the entire time, something the trainer might not have been aware of, because she claps, telling me that I am surprisingly well at this. Incy giggles, getting up to seemingly find her own station to work at. I'm starting to get used to her presence, because I feel slightly disheartened when I hear her footsteps get quieter and quieter.

* * *

 ** _Tyssa Woods, 15, District 5 Female_**

* * *

"I'm going to feed all of Panem, just you wait and see, Tyssa!" Meric exclaims as we depart the elevator.

"Good luck, Meric," I say dryly, "literally everyone is starving." He snickers in response, proclaiming that pessimism will get you nowhere. I guess he's assuming that he will do this if he wins. Victors need to take up a hobby, and I guess his would be feeding the poor.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see no one at the throwing knives station, the weapon I have decided to use in the Games.

"Hey, Meric, we should try the throwing knife station!" I squeal. He gives me an uneasy look, seeing that the Careers are dangerously close, but eventually agrees after they migrate to a station farther away. He mumbles something under his breath, but I couldn't hear.

"Alright. You go first," he tells me. Surprised, I pick up a pile of sharp knives, slicing into my pinkie in the process, but I don't really care. Blood stains one of the blades I am prepared to whish at the target. I chuck it with all my might, but it doesn't even reach close to the target. Instead, it clatters to the floor much too loudly. I awkwardly grab another knife, not looking in Meric's direction, but someone grabs my shoulder.

"Your form is a little off, sweetie." A random voice tells me, and I whip around to find a short woman with many piercings smiling at me. She grips my waist and turns it gently so I am facing slightly sideways, in contrast to when I was front-facing.

"Now, try. Make sure to spin the blade a little." she instructs me. I throw it yet again, only instead of just falling, it actually hits the target. It doesn't pierce it, but at least it traveled a little farther.

"Good," she says, satisfied. "Try at that for an hour or so and you'll get the hang of it." She turns to Meric, who is fiddling with a knife.

"Do you need help, young man?" the woman asks him, and he excitedly nods as she begins to explain the basics to him, as well. He attempts to hit the bullseye but doesn't come close. Instead of getting angry, however, he simply takes a deep breath and grabs another one.

"I'll figure this out," he mumbles, "maybe a kitchen knife translates to a throwing knife."

* * *

 ** _Atticus Faux, 16, District 9 Male_**

* * *

Citlali is getting the hang of camouflage, but I can't seem to get it right. I kept trying and trying, but my shade was never right, my texture was never accurate. I will clearly not wow the Gamemakers with my camo skills.

I wonder how my siblings are doing. Calic, Audra, and Levinia. I wonder if they are already being crushed by the cruelty of the orphanage. I would normally have no motivation to go home, but I feel like I have to, for them. They could come live with me in my Victor's village house.

Petal said that I shouldn't score too low, but I also don't want to score too high. Citlali said that the Careers will target the weakest as well as the strongest.

"I'm gonna go and train at hand-to-hand combat," Citlali tells me, jogging off to the station located across the entire Training Center.

"Do you wish to try shelter-building?" a man says to me, as I realize that I am standing right in front of the station.

"Oh, uh, sure." I tell him, twiddling with a piece of moss. He tells me that the shelter isn't meant to look pretty, but provide protection against the rain and such.

"Make it big enough to fit yourself only." he tells me. I take some tiny twigs, stacking them on top of each other to create a sort of criss-cross.

"No, no, no," the man tells me, knocking over my shelter. I can almost feel the steam coming from my ears. He rebuilds the wall I had made, instead making it grid-like. He tells me to build up until it fits my entire body.

"Yes, your Majesty," I whisper, annoyed, gently stacking up my twigs like he tells me to. When I'm done, the result is a ramshackle hut that seems like luxury compared to what some of the poor people in the slums pass for a house.

"Get inside, please," the trainer tells me, and I do, struggling inside my hut until just my head is sticking out.

"What am I-"

Without warning, a bucket of ice-cold water splashes onto my hut, seeping through the cracks. My shelter may have been worse than I thought, because I'm soaked.

"Tsk, tsk." says the man.

A disappointed clicking of the tongue from the trainer is the last thing I hear as I rush away, embarrassed and wet.

* * *

 _The odds of the tributes have not changed._

* * *

 **Training Day 2! Why did it take so long? Finals week. Need I say more? XD but seriously, sorry for the wait, next chapter will be the Gamemaker's recordings of what the tributes showed them in their private sessions. Good luck to all the tributes!**

 **-Maia**


	12. The Private Sessions: A Test of Skill

_**Grover Ridley, 18, District 7 Male**_

* * *

I wake up with my clock, which has become my routine. Being late isn't a good thing. As I begin to wonder why my clock was set, I choke on my breath as I realize today is the private sessions. Suddenly I'm excited, excited to show my skills. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I hastily slip on my training outfit, tie up my boots, and dash out the door.

"Grover, you're up bright and early," Everesta says, already seated at the table. I glance up at a clock above her head, which reads "00:27:06 UNTIL PRIVATE SESSIONS."

"I sure am," I boast, sitting down at the table and taking a bite out of an apple.

"So, what's your plan?" Everesta asks me with a mouth full. I ponder on it for a moment, because I realize I haven't really come up with much of a plan.

"I think I'll show my axe skills," I tell her, scratching my head.

"I like that," Everesta mutters, "but maybe try a different weapon, too. There may not be any axes in the Cornucopia, and you want to show that you are versatile."

No problem at all, I think.

"No problem at all," I echo, "I'm really good at throwing knives, too. It's like my secondary." Everesta nods at me, but behind her Oakley is slowly and tiredly walking over to the table.

"Morning, sunshine," I tease, and this conjures up a tiny, tiny smile from her. She begins tearing up a bagel and shoving it in her mouth, as I ask her the question she probably doesn't want to hear.

"So, what are you going to for your session today?"

Oakley looks like she's about to spit out the orange juice she just slugged, instead, slapping her palm into her forehead.

"Damn it! I totally forgot about that!" she growls.

"I think everybody did," Everesta jokes, which produces further silence from Oakley.

"Well, you'll think of something," I assured, and the clock on the wall starts to beep, telling us that we have to report down to the Training Center for the private sessions.

"I guess that's us," Oakley hisses, and Everesta follows us to the elevator, stopping as soon as we step inside. I press a button that takes us down, waving to Everesta as the doors slide shut, zipping us down at a pace that makes my stomach drop. When we reach the Training Center, the doors open to reveal all of the tributes already there, some isolated and alone, some talking to each other. I motion Oakley to come and sit with the Careers, but she would rather sit with me, I guess. We take a sofa nestled in the corner of the room, and she lets out an exasperated sigh.

"I'm terrified, I haven't thought of a plan at all." she admits.

"Well, let's think of one now." I suggested. Oakley lights up a little.

"What weapon do you think you're good with?" I ask her. She says throwing knives.

"They're pretty light, and small enough not to be detected," she whispers.

"There you go, sport. Wow them with that. And the fact that a District 7 tribute isn't going to use an axe should help, too," I stated, causing her to become a lot calmer.

"Victoria Rochas," a voice coming from a speaker states, and Victoria rises, blowing us a kiss before vanishing behind the doors. Too bad I'm District 7, I almost want to get this over with.

* * *

 _ACCOUNTS OF THE PRIVATE SESSIONS_

 _ **Prosperina Dew, 28, Head Gamemaker**_

* * *

"Victoria Rochas, please report to your private evaluation."

I instruct an Avox to lay out a buffet, because I will start to get restless by the time the Six Female has come out. I am told that the tributes are outside, the District 1 Female ready for her session.

"Bring her in." I announce.

A long-haired girl glides in, giving me a menacing grin. She straightens up her posture as she announces her name.

"Victoria Rochas, District 1 Female, 16," she proclaims. There is a glow radiating off of her, figuratively, of course, but her confidence, posture, and professionalism is already getting me invested in her. She seems like she was heavily bet on, as well.

Victoria walks over to the middle of the room, waiting.

"Okay, Miss Rochas. You have ten minutes. Whenever you are ready," I tell her, keeping the least amount of emotion in my voice as possible. She curtly nods, casually speed walking over to the spear-throwing stations, where fresh mannequins wait, ready to be pierced. Victoria takes a deep breath, and begins her session with an attitude that any Career should. Calmly.

She throws the first spear with all of her strength, and it hits the dummy right in the heart. A few of my Gamemakers applaud lightly, but she continues down the row, heading towards a rack with whips on it, grabbing a rather heavy one and playfully cracking it.

She does something I do not expect. She full-on decapitates the mannequin with one crack of her whip, sending its head tumbling to the ground. Some of the Gamemakers give nods in approval, impressed, but I was told not to show a single emotion during these. I just have to stay as stone-cold as a statue, at least until this is over. I was going to be beat by the time the District 12 Male exited this room.

Victoria keeps calm, placing the whip back on it's rack, and walking over to the opposite side of the room. She presses a button located next to the agility course, and I realize what she's doing.

3… 2… 1… go!

The mechanical voice starts the course for her, and she gracefully leaps from platform to platform with ease. Trainers attempt to whack her in the face with clubs, but she is effortlessly avoids them, never breaking her speed. Once she gets to the monkey bars, and swings from bar to bar like, well, a monkey. The rest of the course is nothing to her, because she blazes through it, stopping the clock once her feet land on the 'X' that marks the end of the course. Her time was 47 seconds.

"Thank you," she says, bowing. She walks out, leaving as quickly as she came.

"What do we give her?" Marcus asks me, and we all start to give suggestions, but one score was mentioned more than the others, a score that will definitely fit her through the Games. As the first private session she. Received a little more attention, and I have come to adore this female from One. She doesn't seem like a ditzy flirt, something that has became standard fare from her District. As I write down information about her, the announcement for the District 1 Male to come in is heard.

 _Graceful, like a ballerina._

"Iridi Lotu, please report to your private evaluation."

Iridi walks in, with a wide grin on his face.

"Hello there," the boy says loudly, and I set down my pad and focus my glare on him.

"Hello," I say coldly. "Iridi Lotu, I presume?"

"You got it," he mused.

"Well, Mr. Lotu, you have 10 minutes. Best of luck to you." I state.

"Thanks!" He skips over to the broadswords, grabbing two of them. Iridi walks over to the dummies, and takes a breath before sweeping them wildly, cutting and cutting and cutting. The dummy's body is in ribbons by the time he's finished. A thought surfaces in my mind, that was exactly how the District 10 Female died last year, in ribbons, another victim of the bloodbath.

"But wait- there's more!" Iridi announces, and heads over to the throwing knife station and grabbed a handful, sending all six of them zooming toward the target. Only one hits the bullseye, though. He is either very good at masking emotion or didn't even notice.

We all watch him take a newly-sharpened falcata, and without even facing the right direction, slits the throat of the paper dummy, causing a dark pink liquid that resembles blood to rush out.

He wordlessly exits, giving me a confident smirk.

I quickly write down his score, without the input of my fellow Gamemakers, because they are already chatting amongst themselves about him. He may be one of my favorites, and based on what I've heard, he's a crowd favorite as well. There are probably already eager sponsors lining up and betters placing everything they have on this boy. If I could bet, I would, too.

 _He's like a blender with his blade!_

"Cerys Asana, please report to your private evaluation."

The District 2 Female, Cerys Asana, stomps in, her face devoid of emotion of any kind.

"Hello there," I say, just as emotionless, "Cerys Asana I presume?" She curtly nods, looking eager to chop something's head off.

"Well then, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you." Cerys silently strides over to the machetes, a special sword that are in short supply compared to your usual swords. I'm contemplating on whether to even put them in the Cornucopia. If this girl proves herself, I might just put one in her path, if it is stained with blood afterward.

Cerys twirls her machete in the palm of her hand, chuckling a little. She sinks the blade into a dummy's throat, causing the fake blood to spurt, and then slices the chests of two dummies at once. She drops her weapon to the ground, and then the girl heads over to a station normally attempted by outliers. The first aid station.

Cerys chops the hand off of another dummy she took with her, being covered in the fake corpse's blood by the time she reaches the station. She lays it down, gripping the stump of a hand and tightly wrapping bandages around it. She then puts pressure on it, causing the bleeding to cease. It won't stop infection, but will at least prevent immediate blood loss. I'm somewhat impressed by this Career, who chose to think outside the box. But she wasn't done.

Finally, the girl from 2 makes a final stop at the knife throwing station, gripping a handful of the sharp little blades. She flings them all at the target at once, and most of them hit the center, or at least the area around it. Some just clatter to the ground.

"Thank you," I tell her, and she does a little curtsy and jogs out, her district partner entering seconds after she exited the room. I like her. She has a fighting spirit, and will definitely make it far. But she is from the strongest Career District, I would expect no less. I make a title note for myself.

 _Did first aid, will give her a machete at the horn._

"Calix Livianus please report to your private evaluation," the voice says, sending the boy from 2 inside. He is massive, and almost hit his head coming through the door. He's even taller than his already intimidating partner.

"Hello there," I say, "You are Calix Livianus?"

"Hell yeah," he spits out, rubbing his hands together.

"Well, then, Mr. Livianus, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you." I reply. He quickly jogs over to the swords, swiping one off the shelf and caressing the smooth metal.

Calix simultaneously beheads three dummies at once, their limp, paper bodies collapsing to the ground. He kicks them away in disgust, and drops his sword, making a loud clattering sound. He skips his away to the axes, grabbing two. He takes a deep breath, sending one flying to the head of a dummy and another into the heart. Fake blood squirts all over his face, but he's unfazed.

For his last leg of the session, Calix walks over to a trainer at the wrestling station. She perks up when sees him heading to her, and they engage. Calix is slightly smaller than the massive girl, and they struggle for minutes, but Calix finally manages to throw him off of her and out of the ring. I can hardly imagine the fate of a tribute when they tussle with him.

"Thank you, Mr. Livianus." I say loudly, "Please exit through the door on the side of this platform."

Calix proudly walks out, pumping his fists. This boy seemed to rival the strength of his partner, maybe even stronger. He put on an excellent display, I always crack a little smile when I see Careers like him dismember I dummy. I am crazy? Probably. I scribble down my notes about him, the last few words with a lot of meaning.

 _My pick for Victor._

"Gratiana Brindle, please make your way to the private sessions."

The next tribute to come in is the first non-Career, Gratiana Brindle. The girl is shaking, trying to look somewhat presentable as she uneasily walks over to the middle.

"G-Gratiana Brindle, District 3 Female, 17," she says shakily.

"Well, then, Mrs. Brindle," I state, "you have 10 minutes. Best of luck to you."

"T-thanks…" she stutters. Gratiana picks up a dagger, straining as she tries to lift the heavy weapon. She heads over to a dummy, and seemingly tries to stab it in the chest, but she doesn't even break the tough hide of the doll. Instead, it awkwardly bounces off. She tries again and again, only to barely cut the skin, leaving a small trail of blood coursing down it's body.

Gratiana angrily throws the dagger to the ground, and instead goes to the edible plants station. She is presented with a pile of different plants, some poisonous, some not. She then has to divide them between Safe, Deadly, or Varies. She takes almost 7 minutes to do the task, but she does, and trainer reveals she got an 84%. That score would have gotten her an 8, but I had to dock her down because of how long she took.

She rises and shuffles out, probably relieved her session is finally over. I don't know, she was your standard Three tribute She did pretty kay at the edible pants, but her bivouac fear turned me off. I like tributes to be confident with themselves, and she just di not show that. I end my notes with another phrase.

 _She seemed very on-edge._

"Danylo Sepia, please make your way to the private sessions."

Next is Gratiana's District partner, Danylo Sepia. He walks in, casting off a much different energy than his partner. He seems almost indifferent, simply putting his hands on his hips.

"Hello there, Danylo Sepia, I presume?" I ask.

"Yes, ma'am," he says politely, keeping his posture straight.

"Well, then, Mr. Sepia, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you." He just gives a thumbs up, walking over to the somewhat lonely camouflage station, which had yet to be used until now. He picks up a paintbrush, dipping it in tan paint in order to blend himself in with mud. He hastily coats his entire arm in the stuff, putting it to the backdrop to compare. Unfortunately, it doesn't even look close to it. Rather than trying again, he simply washes the paint off, since he has little time. Danylo lets his paintbrush fall to the ground, rushing to the trap making skills without a second thought. He takes his time in constructing an elaborate trap, which would leave a tribute suspended in the air by one leg, ready to be impaled.

 _Seemed less scared as his partner._

"Teila Kaley, please make your way to the private area."

Teila Kaley enters with a fiery demeanor, stomping her way over to the red 'X' the Peacekeeper told her to stand at.

"Hello there, Teila Kaley, I presume?" I say once again.

"Yep." she mumbles. Teila is swaying back and forth, as if she's already bored.

"Well, Miss Kaley," I stutter, somewhat on edge, "you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you."

Teila sprints over to the spears rack, taking one and tearing a mannequin's calf to shreds. She kicks it in the head, and finishes it off my shoving the sharp point into it's throat. I'm expecting more, but the girl just quickly bows and walks out without saying a single word. I'm not sure what to think of her Like the Seven female, she wasn't a volunteer, but she still wasn't a blubbering child. Her strength seemed to come from her confidence alone. And I adore the fact that a District 4 tribute didn't use a trident, that earns brownie points with me, because seeing the same thing get done over and over again gets tedious. I admire her for that. I scribble down some factual notes, along with a little phrase.

 _Good with a spear._

"Gleyn Bersond, please make your way to the private area."

He walked into the room, and quickly took in the stations, before looking up at me.

"Hello there. Gleyn Bersond, I presume?"

"Yes," he said. It was formal, but not in a way that made it seem as if Gleyn entirely respected me.

"Well, Mr. Bersond. Good luck to you."

Gleyn nodded, and approached the tridents. He grabbed one, and turned around, still remaining at the station. He looked across the room at the dummies, and took a deep breath. This had to go perfectly if he wanted any chance of getting a high score.

With a strong throwing motion, he whisked the trident toward the limp dolls. It pierced the dummy's paper skin, causing fake blood to spurt out, which coats his face. The dummy falls to the floor, and Gleyn looked up at us.

"Thank you, Mr. Bersond," I said. "Please leave through the door to the side of this platform." Gleyn nodded, and quickly left the room, probably feeling confident in his abilities. The score I'm going to give him should please him as well. This boy was interesting, and even though District 4 is on-off in terms of skill, he did not disappoint. He did a trident as usual with Four tributes, but I'm fine with that. Lorna said that she may not supply tridents this year but I told her that there always has to be one. Gold, gleaming, sitting in the back of the Horn. If he stains it with the blood of another tribute quickly, I'll be satisfied.

 _District 4 is full of surprises._

"Tyssa Woods, please make your way to the private area."

A small, minute girl walked in, obviously nervous, and offered me a shy smile.

"Hello there," I said to Tyssa. It seemed like she was about to reply when I continued. "Tyssa Woods, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am." she stated.

"Well then, Ms. Woods," I continued. "Good luck to you."

Tyssa looked around once more, getting her bearings of the room. She then headed over to the knives, and picked up a particularly large one. The blade looked sharp to the touch. Tyssa then walked across the room, and approached a training dummy. She lifted her knife, and slashed the dummy. It cut into the dummy, but no fake blood came out, and the dummy didn't fall. So much for a one-shot.

Tyssa continued to hack away at the dummy with the knife, until finally, she was rewarded with a gush of fake blood, and the dummy toppling to the floor with the knife embedded in its thigh. Tyssa looked up at me with wide eyes.

"Thank you, Ms. Woods," was all I said. "Please leave through the door to the side of this platform." Tyssa did as instructed, and quickly vacated the area.

Eh. She was okay. I liked that she tried a weapon, an even though she didn't do perfect, the girl did okay. I begin to feel a little sympathetic for her, because she was trying her best. But I write down some notes about her, making a statement that is most likely true.

 _This girl could win without anyone noticing._

"Turmeric Saucer, please make your way to the private area."

We all watched as Turmeric burst into the private room, laughing to himself. However, Turmeric soon quieted down, and surveyed the room.

"Hello there," I said. "Turmeric Saucer, I presume?"

"Yes ma'am." he replied, slightly arrogantly.

"Well then, Mr. Saucer," I continued, as per usual for me. "Good luck to you."

Turmeric rushed over to the cooking station, where he opened the refridgerator and pulled out a completely raw turkey. The boy carves the bird until the inedible innards are splattered on the floor next to him. He scewered it and hung the suspended turkey over an unlit fire, which he quickly proceeds to ignite. He gently rotates the turkey until he has cooked it to a golden brown. He gives the bird to an Avox, who delivers it upstairs to us, Raina, the Mutt Designer, already feasting on it.

"Thank you, Mr. Saucer," I said stoically. "Please leave through the door to the side of this platform." And Turmeric rushed out of the room, leaving a pleasant food smell behind.

I had grown a liking to Turmeric when I saw his chariot costume. It was a chef's costume, but District 5's industry isn't chefs. Again, it was different! He started throwing truffles, too, which made the crowd go insane. I liked that he did cooking, a somewhat unconventional skill to display.

 _Cook?_

"Kyva Ruun, please make your way to the private area."

Little Kyva walked through into the private room, and began to shiver, probably from fear and not a chill.

"Hello there," I said. "You are Kyva Ruun?" The little girl just nodded, almost bursting into tears.

"Well then, Ms. Ruun, good luck to you."

Kyva looked around, frightened, and made a hasty decision to try out the dagger station. Kyva lifted one up, accidentally slicing through her pinkie in the process. The girl tried to brush it off, proceeding to slice at a dummy, barely cutting through the skin. Finally, after minutes of cutting, some blood has stained her blade.

"Thank you, Miss Ruun," I said. "Please leave through the door to the side of this platform." Kyva nodded slowly, keeping her composure, and walked through the door, letting out an immense sigh of relief before disappearing through the door.

Unfortunately this girl had bloodbath written all over her. She wasn't as good with weapons as the girl before her, Tyssa. And the fact that this girl is 13 years old doesn't help, either. She would be lucky to gain a few sponsors, and even then, it would be out of pity.

 _Bloodbath, probably._

"Styx Gasket, please make your way through to the private area. The Gamemakers are ready to see you now."

Styx Gasket stormed through the doors, almost stomping. He stopped in the center of the room, crossing his arms in annoyance.

"Hello there," I said for what felt like the hundredth time. "Styx Gasket, I presume?"

"Duh," he said rudely.

"Well then, Mr. Gasket. You have ten minutes." I don't even wish this boy luck, because frankly, he's pissing me off already.

Styx nodded, and walked across to the weapons, looking for what he needed. A quick look-around quickly located a nice looking group of throwing knives. He grabbed them all, and placed them in his hands expertly. Styx then walked across to the center of the room, and looked right at the large dummy. And then, all at once, the knives in his left hand flew out, striking the dummy. They all slammed into the pressure points of the dummy, causing it to fall to the floor, but no blood came out just yet. Styx readied his right hand, and launched the knives from his right hand. They all slammed into the main arteries, and the dummy imitated a spasm before a large amount of blood pooled out from what now resembled a crimson pin cushion. Styx looked up at us, satisfied with his accomplishment.

"Thank you, Mr. Gasket," I said. "Please leave through the door to the side of this platform."

He seemed to have embers of rebellion in him but nothing worth getting frightened over. He was just a spitfire boy from 6 whose coals will soon be put out. I'm not going to blow him up, because I know for a fact that his arrogance will be his downfall.

Styx grunted and left, as the District 7 Female entered. Halfway done.

* * *

 ** _Oakley Gunderson, 16, District 7 Female_**

My name is finally announced after almost two hours, and by the time I rise, I'm almost exhausted from the anticipation.

"Good luck in there," Grover tells me tiredly. I weakly smiled at him before vanishing from behind the doors.

Anxiety begins to creep up my stomach but I force it back down with a gulp. This has to go well. It has to. Me getting a high score will put me on the level with the Careers. I can't be shunted from the Pack, it was my only protection.

I walked into the private area, somewhat in awe of how huge it was. Everything you could imagine in terms of survival was here. There was even a large oak tree in the corner, reaching the ceiling. I relax a little as an idea emerges from the back of my mind.

"Hello there, Oakley Gunderson, I presume?" says a woman whom I literally just noticed. She's tall, with dark skin and light purple hair.

"Uh-huh," I reply coolly, somewhat wishing I had been more formal in front of the woman who will pretty much determine my fate.

"Well, then, Ms. Gunderson, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you."

"Thanks," I chirp, realizing that was unnecessary. Oh well.

First want to do my axe skills. I grab one from a high shelf, standing on my tiptoes to retrieve the one that I had grown accustomed to. I twirl it around in my hands before throwing it into the chest of a dummy. A small trickle of blood courses down it's midsection, but I waste no time and gead over to my tree.

I eagerly climb up the rough bark, nimbly combing through the branches until I reach the very, very top. I ring a bell gleefully before hopping back down with the assistance of a rope.

"Thank you, Ms. Gunderson. Please exit through the side of this platform."

I happily skip out, satisfied with my performance. I think I did pretty damn well.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Oakley Gunderson, District 7 Female, age 16. Showcased axe skills and tree climbing skills. Seemed a little nervous, but not too much. I remember that this girl was Reaped instead of volunteering, so in that regard, she wasn't too bad. I believe she was allowed into the Career pack. I'm not sure if that was for the better or worse._

* * *

 ** _Grover Ridley, 18, District 7 Male_**

"Grover Ridley, please make your way to the private sessions."

"Guess that's me," I say to myself, rising from the chair I've been stuck to for the past couple of hours. It feels almost weird to walk after sitting for so long.

Everesta told me that I shouldn't just showcase my axe skills, and I'll comply. My throwing knife skills are top-notch, too, and hopefully if everything goes just right I'll get the highest score, my goal.

After being led down a long hallway, we've finally reached the training area. It's kind of big, but it's what I expected. The Gamemakers are seated on a giant platform, in a sort of loft, above the training center, which has been rearranged slightly.

"Hello there," she says out of nowhere, startling me. "I presume you are Grover Ridley?"

"Hell yeah," I reply casually, but the lady has no reaction, and instead just wishes me luck. Whatever. I head towards the axes, my heart rate increasing as my fingers wrap around the handle.

I hurl the axe into a dummy's skull, and it buries itself with a satisfying sound. I find that the dummy has a friend, in a running position to imitate a tribute trying to escape. I grab a second axe from the shelf and fling that one into it's chest, causing fake blood to spurt out. I smile with glee, but then I remember that I have to do another skill, too, my throwing knife skills. No biggie.

I head over five rows to the throwing knives, where a set of sleek blades wait, ready to break some skin. Or fake paper skin, at least. I grab the whole pile at once, removing the velcro strap that's binding them together. Rather than throwing them one by one, I make an impulsive decision to throw them all at once.

But it was actually a good idea, because all five of them pierced the dead center of the target.

I let out an involuntary laugh, and I only say it was involuntary because things had gone perfectly.

"Thank you, Mr. Ridley," the Head Gamemaker says, and I think she's telling me where to leave, but I'm already gone, joy consuming my thoughts.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Grover Ridley, District 7 Male, age 18. Showcased axe skills and throwing knife skills. Extraordinary. He made his mark perfectly when he threw his first axe, and the second one decapitated the dummy. Then he went to the throwing knives and flung them all at once, where they landed right smack in the middle. I would expect no less from a Career._

* * *

 ** _Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female_**

"Incense Vasquez, please make your way to the private area."

 _Crap_ , I think, as I realize that it's my turn. I've been bouncing my knee for the past half hour as my turn got closer. I keep telling myself that I'll be fine, it'll only be a few minutes, and then it'll be over.

 _But Incy, you gotta do the damn interview tomorrow. And then…_

I purge those thoughts from my mind as the doors are opened for me, revealing an expansive gym that seems a little bigger than the place I trained at for the last two days. Maybe because they moved all the training equipment together instead of having it all spread out, so it will be easier to find.

"Hello there," the woman says flatly. "Incense Vasquez, I presume?"

I'm the 15th tribute to do their session, and she's probably already bored because the Careers are finished.

"Yes," I mutter, already wanting to get this over with.

"Well, Ms. Vasquez, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you."

I nod and head over to the edible plants/insects computer, where I boot it up. I'm prepared to give it all I've got, but a thought creeps in the back of my mind. The trainer said I have a gift with this subject. I might score high, and that places a gigantic target on my back. As the first question pops up, showing an elephant beetle, I deliberately press "Safe" even though it is very poisonous.

But, wait. Scoring low won't help me either. The Careers take out the strongest and weakest in the bloodbath. I have to be in the middle, a perfect balance.

The next thing that pops up is Nightlock. Obvious. I press "Deadly."

For the next few minutes, everything is a balance. Right, wrong, right, wrong. When I finally finish, the machine says I got a 50%. I perk up, because this will probably get me a 5. Just what I wanted.

"Thank you, Ms. Vasquez. Please exit through the side of this platform."

I leave without a second thought, climbing into that elevator and shooting up to safety. I wonder how Lyndon is going to do. It makes me ache when I realize I can't help him anymore.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Incense Vasquez, District 8 Female, age 16. Showcased edible plants/ insects skills. She didn't do too well, but she didn't do horrible either. Incense also only displayed this skill, which lowers a tribute's score. I don't know… she didn't really stand out._

* * *

 ** _Lyndon Orange, 16, District 8 Male_**

"Lyndon Orange, please make your way to the private sessions."

Incy is gone, so I have to feel my way to the door when someone finally helps me. I'm guided down a very long hallway until I hear doors open, where I'm told that I'm in the training center, and to walk for around 5 seconds and I'll reach the center. I do as instructed, and plant my feet down, my head hanging.

"Hello there," says a sudden voice, piercing the silence, "Lyndon Orange, I presume?"

"Uh, yeah," I tell the voice.

"Well then, Mr. Orange, you have ten minutes. I wish you the best of luck."

I just stand in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. No one is here to help me, and I can't remember where the hell the snare-building station is. I walk aimlessly until I bump into something, and my hand dunks into what feels like paint. I realize I'm at the camouflage station.

Not what I intended to showcase, but it's the best I can do. I don't have the energy to find something else. I sink my hand into the paint bucket again, and begin swirling it on the floor. I have no idea what I'm even making, but it's the best I can do.

"Uh, t-thank you, Mr. Orange," the voice stutters, "Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform."

Obviously I have no idea where the hell that is, so I stand there until someone, most likely an Avox, comes and helps me into an elevator. We shoot upward until I finally reach what has been my home for a few days.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Lyndon Orange, District 8 Male, age 16. Wow, talk about awkward. He just stood there for a few minutes before heading to the camouflage, and even then he just smeared some bright yellow paint all over the ground. That most certainly will NOT conceal him. I know he's blind, so at least I will give the poor boy some points for effort._

* * *

 ** _Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female_**

"Citlali Kenyie, please make your way to the private area." a tinny voice says.

"Oh, god, already?!" I shriek, as Atticus puts his hand on my shoulder as I get up.

"Hey, you'll be okay," he offers, and I just nod at him in response, disappearing behind the big doors that lead this so-called "private area".

The doors are opened to reveal an expansive area, where most of the stations have been lined up into rows. My camouflage station is in the smack middle. Perfect, now they will be able to see me better.

I've been getting better these last two days. At first I didn't do very well at all, but with a little help from the kindhearted trainer, I got rather good at it.

I find a yellow mess all over the floor when I get there. I put two and two together and assume that this may have been the doing of the blind boy from Eight, who was right before me. How else could this mess be explained?

I decide to try and blend myself in with mud. If the arena has mud, this will be easy to blend in with even if I don't have this extra paint to help me.

I begin brushing strokes of light tan across my arm, stopping when there's around a layer coating it. I rub some mud in with it, too, and by the time I finish, I am one with the mud. I place my arm by the wet dirt, and it's almost a perfect match. Maybe not from up-close, but you wouldn't be able to notice from far away at all. So when the Careers are looking for me, they'll literally walk right past me without a second thought. It's not like they'll comb through mud searching for me.

"Thank you, Miss Kenyie. Please leave through the exit on this platform." says the Head Gamemaker. I do a little curtsy and head on out, hoping that was good enough for them.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Citlali Kenyie, District 9 Female, age girl did not show any weapons skills, but she was pretty good with camouflage. Citlali seemed calm enough and confident in her abilities. I wouldn't want to target her because she seems like a surprise worth keeping alive. I would almost be disappointed if she died in the opening minutes._

* * *

 ** _Atticus Faux, 17, District 9 Male_**

"Atticus Faux, please make your way to the private area."

I groan as they announce that it is finally, finally my turn. I'm almost relieved that I won't have to sit, thinking out different scenarios of how I'll do. Maybe I'll shit myself. Maybe I'll actually do well. Who knows, but at least that fear will be gone as soon as this dreaded session is over.

I'm led down a well-lit hallway by Peacekeepers until the doors are opened and I'm in the Training Center again, a place where some bad memories were made here, like when the time a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped on me. I'd rather not go through that again, so showing my shelter building skills is out.

But what else can I show? The day before I got soaked, all I did was blowguns and even then I wasn't very good at it. But it's all I know, so that's what I'm going to have to go with.

I pick up a slender pipe and dip a dart in some nightlock juice that is sitting in a vial on a table near the blowguns. I place the metal dart inside the pipe and blow with all my might. It pierces the dummy's skull, where it does a sort of fake-spasm and falls to the ground. I look at the Head Gamemaker, signaling that I'm finished.

"Thank you, Mr. Faux." she responds, "Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform."

I drop my weapon and stroll out, a little surprised. I did way better than I thought I ever would. Maybe the odds are finally shifting in my favor.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Atticus Faux, District 9 Male, age 17. This boy was nothing special. He didn't seem all that nervous, and he was rather good with a blowgun. He's your typical unassuming boy from 9, and I wouldn't be too surprised if he died early. But then again, if Atticus Faux made it far, I can't say I would be surprised either. I guess we'll see._

* * *

 ** _Astelle Landers, 14, District 10 Female_**

"Astelle Landers, please make your way to the private area."

"About time," I tell Kean. "I'm ready to get this stupid thing over with."

"Me, too," he says wearily, "don't do too bad in there." Kean looks worn-down from having to wait so long. He won't be waiting for much longer, because I want to finish this as soon as possible.

I head over to the crossbows, the weapon I've decided to go with for these Games. It's light enough, and can do some real damage. There are only a few on the shelf along with some regular bows, so I grab the smallest one and aim it towards the target which is around 30 feet away. Shakily, I aim it and pull the trigger, and the bolt finds itself in the area surrounding the bullseye. Oops. I try again and it hits a little closer, but still doesn't satisfy me. I give it one more shot and thankfully, it finally hits the center. I give the Head Gamemaker a nod.

"Thank you, Mrs. Landers. Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform." says the Head Gamemaker sternly.

"Okay," I whisper, jogging out of the room, a little spooked. That wasn't my best, but hopefully I wouldn't score so abysmally low that I was written off as a Bloodbath.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Astelle Landers, District 10 Female, age 14. Astelle Landers was a cute little girl, I must admit. She seemed rather aloof throughout the entire Pre-Games. This girl was okay at best with a crossbow, she at least seemed capable of hitting her mark. I haven't seen a tribute use a crossbow in years, not since Georgina Anjou from 2 years ago, who, interestingly enough, was also a female from Ten._

* * *

 ** _Kean Avrett, 18, District 10 Male_**

"Kean Avrett, please make your way to the private area."

I have been sitting on my ass for hours now, and I'm ready to get this done and get my score. I'm aiming for a high score despite Moniqua telling me not to. Outliers aren't just meant to score low and die in the bloodbath. If we're going to die at the hands of some bloodthirsty Career, we're going out with a bang.

I waltz down the hallway leading to the giant gymnasium where I will present my chosen skill. I have decided to do wrestling and machete, a plan that has surfaced moments after entering the room itself. Bad planning, Kean. I look up to see Gamemakers chatting with each other, their attention already diverted from how long they have been here.

"Hello there, Kean Avrett, I presume?" said the Head Gamemaker, Prosperina Dew.

"Yes, miss," I reply respectfully. If there's anyone I want to be impressed with me, it's her.

"Well, then, Mr. Avrett. You have ten minutes. Best of luck to you," she states. I nod at the woman.

I sprint to the wrestling station first, because I want to save the best for last. The trainer preps himself as we tussle, him trying with all might to push me out of the ring. But I'm insisting to stay, so much so that I push the trainer out myself. He falls to the ground and looks up at me, giving me a smirk.

I hop out of the ring and head over to the machetes, where some gleaming blades await me. I grab one, gripping its handle and slashing with all my power into the gut of a dummy, causing a river of blood pours out, covering me in the hot liquid.

"Thank you, Mr. Avrett. Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform." she says.

"Thanks," I tell the woman, leaving with a strange smile on my face. That went pretty well, considering the low standards I set for myself.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Kean Avrett, District 10 Male, age 18. The male from 10 was rather strong compared to the weak display put on last year. He was excellent at wrestling but even better with a machete. He doesn't seem like the kind to kill innocents in the bloodbath but he might. He's a surprise, for sure._

* * *

 ** _Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female_**

"Quincianah Aubergine, please make your way to the private area."

"Uh-oh," I mutter, because it's my turn, and I'm woefully unprepared. I have a plan, of course, but mentally, I'm a wreck.

Galvan smiles at me as I walk through huge doors, leading into a gigantic room that I am assuming is the Training Center, but it looks a little different now.

"Hello there," says someone out of nowhere, causing me to physicallly jump. "Quincianah Aubergine, I presume?"

"Yeah, but just call me Quincy, please," I say as sweetly as I can.

"Well, Quincy, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you." I give the Gamemakers a thumbs-up, before making my way to the agility corse, something that reminded me of the obstacle course my friends and I set up at home. The first part is pitifully easy, involving me simply leaping from platform to platform. When it gets a little harder, I speed up. Now I have to go on monkey bars, but I get through those with ease, too. The final part, involving trainers trying to whack me in the face with clubs, is the most difficult section but luckily I got through that in one piece. I would have just ended it right there, but it felt like something was missing. I decide to try my hand at a dagger, a weapon I proved to be decent at. I sink my blade into the calf of a dummy, but it barely breaks the skin. I decide to go for its heart instead, chiseling and chiseling until I'm rewarded with a small stream of blood.

"Thank you, Miss Aubergine," she states, "please exit through the door on the side of this platform." I nod quickly, dashing out of that big, scary room with glee. I won't see any of those weapons again until I rise from my glass tube.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Quincy Aubergine, District 11 Female, age 12. She was the only 12 year old this year. And by those standards, I'm very impressed. She was well-composed and calm, and completed the agility course with ease. Unfortunately she failed at the daggers. I'll have to mark her down for that._

* * *

 ** _Galvan Clearcreek, 17, District 11 Male_**

"Galvan Clearcreek, please make your way to the private area."

I'm almost annoyed of how low my district is, because I'm one of the last people to go. For hours I've heard names being called, one after the other. But it's finally my time, and I'm a little excited to show them what I've got. For my beloved family.

Peacekeepers lead me down a hallway from the waiting room into the somewhat remodeled training center. The Gamemakers look very intoxicated, probably from the countless drinks the Avoxes are handing them. Only the Head Gamemaker herself looks like she's still paying attention.

"Hello there," she greets, "Galvan Clearcreek, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am," I reply, standing up as straight as I can.

"Well then, Mr. Clearcreek, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you." That must mean my private session has begun.

I rush to the spears rack, looking somewhat immaculate. I grip one in my left hand, which I've found to be my preferable throwing arm. I'm planning on making this quick.

I chuck the weapon as hard as I can, sending it whisking into the chest of a dummy. I take another spear to display my close-combat with the weapon, ducking and parrying, somewhat imitating battle. I sink the spearhead into the mannequin's throat, spurting out magenta-colored blood. Just to make an impression, I walk over to a third dummy and swiftly snap its neck. The paper doll crumbles to the ground, joining the bodies of the other two faux corpses.

"Thank you, Mr. Clearcreek. Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform."

Wow. That went amazing. I really didn't feel like Galvan, it felt like I was becoming someone else. A cold blooded killer, conformed to the will of the awful Capitol.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Galvan Clearcreek, District 11 Male, age 17. Where do I begin? He was spectacular. The boy excelled in spearfighting. He can snap a tribute's neck with ease. I sot of wish he had maybe displayed a another skill, but I think I can say that that was enough for me. He will be very happy when he sees his score._

* * *

 ** _Lizereth Onne, 16, District 12 Female_**

"Lizereth Onne, please make your way to your private session."

"Oh no..." I mutter to myself. Rik has his head in his hands, exhausted beyond belief from having to wait so long. I've been daydreaming for the past three hours to keep myself occupied, but now I have to snap out of it. I have to do well for my Martin.

"Martin said that he wants you to score high, Liz..." I tell myself, "so score high."

I skip down a hallway that takes me into a large, very big room. Some people are sitting in a clubhouse, overlooking the room. They look very sleepy. I'll do them a favor, I'll finish as fast as I can so they can take their naps.

"Hello there," says a pretty woman. I open my mouth to respond but she continues. "Lizereth Onne, I presume?"

"You know my name," I muse, "Most people forget, you know." I offer a shy smile, but the pretty woman looked off-put.

"W-well then, Ms. Onne, you have ten minutes. Good luck to you."

"Thank you very much," I respond sweetly.

I skip to the edible creatures/insects. I pick up a sand-colored snake that very much resembles Martin.

"Let's pretend this is Martin," I begin, stroking the snake.

"Martin is hungry. I can feed Martin almost anything and he'll eat it." I grab a bug from a hole in the dirt ground and offer one to the snake. It begins licking the palm of my hand and finally smallows the bug whole.

"See? Snakes like rats better. But he still ate the bug." I set the snake down, and look up at the lady with excitement in my eyes.

"Uh, thank you, Miss Onne," she replies, "Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform."

"Okay!" I squeal, prancing out of the giant room, overjoyed with my session. Martin said to get a high score, and he will not be disappointed. He'll probably laugh when I tell him how I got it once I get home.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Lizereth Onne, District 12 Female, age 16. I have no idea what this girl was trying to show me. She played with a damn snake for ten minutes! She may not be right in the head so I can't be TOO mad at her. Also, I am quite curious to find out who the hell this 'Martin' character is. Remind me to tell Aurelia to bring that up in Lizereth's interview._

* * *

 ** _Henerik Sarafian, 16, District 12 Male_**

"Henerik Sarafian, please make your way to your private evaluation."

I'm the last private session of these Games. I'm going to hold the last weapon until the start of the Games. It's a strange feeling, but I brush it off. I get up and leave the now-empty room and trying to mentally prepare myself for this waste of time.

The Training Center looks a little different, like the moved some stuff around. My bow and arrows are nearly in the middle of the entire room, the weapon I wanted to try. I want to prove that it's not just a girl's weapon, which has become a sort of Games stereotype. A nimble, elusive girl lurking in the trees with her bow drawn. I can be that, too.

"Hello there," says a weird voice of the sudden, and I look around until I notice the Gamemakers just sitting above the Training Center, staring down.

"Henerik Sarafian, I presume?" she asks.

"Yeah," I bark out, ready to start this damn thing.

"Well then, Mr. Sarafian, you have ten minutes. Best of luck to you."

"T-thanks..." I spit out, and I realize that I have started to tremble from fear.

"No, no, no..." I whimper, because I can't shoot accurately if I'm shaking. I try steading myself but nothing's working. I'm running out of time, so ai'll gave to deal with it.

I shakily pick up a silver bow, taking a moment to get used to its weight. I pull back the thick string, my body still refusing to stay still. I squeeze the arrow before letting it whish towards the large target.

It doesn't even pierce it. It just falls to the ground. I frantically try again, only to get the same result. But I know this won't do, so i give it one last shot, and thankfully, it sticks to the target. Not anywhere near the bullseye, but it's something.

"Thank you, Mr. Sarafian. Please leave through the exit on the side of this platform."

I frantically put the bow back on it's rack and sprint out, utterly terrified.

 _PROSPERINA'S ACCOUNT: Henerik Sarafian, District 12 Male, age 16. Poor boy. He tried and tried to just hit the target with his bow and arrow but couldn't come close until his final attempt. Bow and arrows is clearly not where he shines in terms of skill. He seems like your typical District 12 bloodbath. A shame, considering how far the Twelve male made it last year._

* * *

 **What?! Two styles of writing the private sessions?! Well, the two of us decided to each take half the chapter. Try and guess who wrote which section. So these are finally done, and yes, the actual scores aren't here, sorry. Those will be NEXT chapter, to create a sense of anticipation, I guess. Good luck to each tribute.**

 **-Maia and Ruby**


	13. The Scores Are Revealed

**_Styx Gasket, 18, District 6 Male_**

* * *

Ever since I finished my private session, I've just been lounging in my bedroom, endlessly eating the food an Avox provides me. I'm trying to come off as cool, but I'm honestly a little nervous. What if I get a really low score? I won't see past the bloodbath. I won't get to explore the arena, show my skill, or earn sponsors.

I've gotten accustomed to being in the Capitol, but I know I won't be here much longer. Tomorrow I have to be interviewed in front of all of Panem, and even I thought the worst was over when I walked out of that Training Center for the last time, it only just begun. If I think answering some questions from a Capitolite is bad, how bad is that compared to being speared by a Career?

A knock is heard at my door, as I look at my clock. It reads 5:53. Only a few minutes left until they reveal the scores.

"Styx, come and join us. They're announcing the scores my dear!" cries our escort, Pippi. I used to hate her but I have been able to tolerate this peppy woman a bit more as time goes on. I used to be incredibly bitter about all this but just letting that go relaxes me immensely.

"Coming!" I say, a little more excited then I had intended. I'm really nervous for my score but I kind of want to see what everyone else got, too.

Kyva and Sonata are already in the living room, Kyva scooting over and offering me a seat next to her. I sit at a leather chair instead, because being that close to a girl makes me tense. Not like I need any more stress.

"Welcome, welcome!" exclaims a woman with pale skin and rainbow colored hair fashioned to look like a crown.

"Now, after three days of training, the Gamemakers have given each tribute a score that should reflect their skill. The scores are on a scale of one to twelve. One is the worst, twelve is the best. Now, without further ado, I give you the tribute's scores for the 110th Hunger Games!"

...

 **The 110th Hunger Games Pre-Games: The Scores**

 _Host_

 _Mentor_

 _Tribute_

* * *

 _"From District 1, Victoria Rochas, with a score of 9."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Not a bad score. She was a pretty young Career so I wasn't expecting her to score insanely high or anything. She did well.

BOREALIS DRUMMOND: It was an okay score. I've seen a definite decline in the intelligence and humanity of our tributes, and Victoria seems like an example of such a thing, especially when she scored so low.

VICTORIA ROCHAS: I let out a sigh of relief. I didn't want to score too ridiculously high, because I was almost positive that Calix would kill anyone who scored higher than him. Calix had to have scored higher than a 9.

* * *

 _"Iridi Lotu, with a score of 9."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: I kind of expected that from a District 1 tribute. Yes, they are Careers, but they seem more like flirts than actual warriors. I won't be surprised if they both go for the sexy angle in their interviews tomorrow night.

ARISTA TENNARD: A 9? Well, I thought he was going to score an 8. A 9 still isn't fantastic… but it was better than I thought he would score. I know I'm an awful Mentor to say this, but I'm rooting for Victoria.

IRIDI LOTU: I silently cursed to myself. I had wanted to score higher than Victoria, but oh well. It's still a decent score, and would get me some sponsors. Hopefully Mom isn't too mad at it.

* * *

 _"From District 2, Cerys Asana, with a score of 10."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Cerys is from District 2, she was almost required to score above a 10. Julia said her niece is betting on her, because District 2 Females are always "badass". That remark always makes me snicker, I don't know why.

SPARTA HOOD: Yes! I knew Cerys would score well. I had always had faith in her, and even though most people are betting on her partner, even though I can't, I'm putting my money on the fact that she is going to come home.

CERYS ASANA: Wow, pretty good. I'm not going to complain that I didn't score higher or anything, a 10 is good. I'm afraid to see what Calix is going to get...

* * *

 _"Calix Livianus, with a score of 11!"_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: I got chills just looking at this boy. When I last checked, he was the most betted on tribute in the entire Games, next to the Seven boy. An evil side of me infects my mind, because I'm already wishing for the bloodbath to come so I can watch this monstrous boy rip kids apart.

LUCULLUS CRANE: Damn. This boy is stone-cold. He's coming back for sure. I was pleasntly surprised when I didn't recieve someone as soft as the male tribute from last year, I already forgot his name. Well, what does it matter, he's dead!

CALIX LIVIANUS: YES! That's what I'm talking about! I should've gotten a 12, though.

* * *

 _"From District 3, Gratiana Brindle, with a score of 5."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: She's an outlier. It was actually a decent score from District 3, which usually produces bloodbath fodder. But sometimes a brilliant tribute will come along and make the Games more interesting with their knowledge and cleverness. I hope this girl is just hiding her intelligence.

DIGITA ENLOW: Huh. A five. That was my score back in my Games. Then again, that year, no one scored above an 8, even the Careers. But the Careers seem really tough, and that makes me so sad for Gratiana.

GRATIANA BRINDLE: I scored a 5? That's way better than I expected, I was thinking I would get a 3 or 4, but a 5 is okay. A 5 is good. Maybe when I'm the only tribute left besides the Careers, I'll get sponsors because a girl who scored a 5 got that far.

* * *

" _Danylo Sepia, with a score of 5."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Same score as his partner. He never really stood out to me throughout the Pre-Games, and unfortunately for him, the actual Games themselves weren't looking too good for him. Hopefully he had allies.

ARAN JOHNSTONE: The kid got a 5? That's disappointing. I know I have my head in the clouds, but I thought Danylo would get a way higher score. Oh well. I guess this'll be another bloodbath year.

DANYLO SEPIA: Oh. When I saw that number 5 flash by my face, I was a little disheartened. It's not the worse score ever, there will probably be worse, I just wasn't expecting something so... average.

* * *

 _"From District 4, Teila Kaley, with a score of 7."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: I squeal a little bit inside, because she's my favorite so far. Teila was seemingly not a Career at all, which made me love her even more. I would love for this woman to win, assuming she doesn't come out scarred for life. Victors like that are incredibly boring.

SIRENA O'HARA: Oh my gosh! Teila did SO good. I know the poor girl isn't a Career, but she's got the skill! A 7 isn't bad, not bad at all, this girl is going to go far, I know she will!

TIGER KALEY: Well, a little above the halfway mark, but I can work with that. I'll probably be the lowest scoring Career, but it's not like I'm an actual Career anyway.

* * *

 _"Gleyn Bersond, with a score of 8."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Typical District 4 score. People have been saying that this boy is more attractive than the District 1 Careers this year, and I have to agree. He will definitely get lots of sponsors from that alone.

MARINER DEEPWELL: I have a standard for my tributes, and Gleyn met it. The boy is strong, motivated, and has a decent score. His beauty will earn him some sponsors, too.

GLEYN BERSOND: Ah, an 8, really? Are these Gamemakers failing me on purpose or something?

* * *

 _"From District 5, Tyssa Woods, with a score of 6."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: That's actually more than I expected from Tyssa. I was sure she would score around a 4 or 5 or so, but I'm impressed. She might go far.

FINCH CROSSLEY: Heh. It made me smile when I saw that big number 6 flash across the screen. I knew this kid had potential, she's going to make it far.

TYSSA WOODS: Wow! A 6?! That's really, really good! Maybe the odds are shifting in my favor after all...

* * *

 _"Turmeric Saucer, with a score of 7."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Eeek! I LOVE Turmeric. He is like, the best thing ever! He's a bit of a celebrity in his own right, Klair has already started to make her poster for him. I can't wait to see what it looks like.

BLAZE MADDOX: Hey, not bad.

TURMERIC SAUCER: I scored a 7? Me, with a seven? I was a little, tiny but pessimistic going into these Games, but that score just made me feel a little more confident with myself. Now, I truly believe I can escape this alive, and go home.

* * *

 _"From District 6, Kyva Ruun, with a score of 3."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Poor little girl. She has bloodbath written all over her and that's a shame. She's cute. I cannot wait to see her interview tomorrow, I hope she goes for the "bubbly and friendly" angle which usually works for her age group.

SONATA MYERS-HARRIS: Ugh, poor thing. The girl barely knows what the Games even are, and now she's headed into them with a score of three.

KYVA RUUN: Oh no. By the sighs of disappointment coming from everyone in the room, I know I did bad.

* * *

 _"Styx Gasket, with a score of 7."_

* * *

AURELIA POLISHIRE: Wow, great score for an outlier. He hasn't stood out to me much, but he could make it far!

SONATA MYERS-HARRIS: I have a little more faith in Styx now. At first he seemed like a spoiled brat, but he could quite possibly have some skill.

STYX GASKET: Whatever, a 7 is good, I guess. Will that number save me from having my skull fractured by a throwing knife?

* * *

 _"From District 7, Oakley Gunderson, with a score of 8."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: For a sad little Reaped girl, she did way better than I ever could have expected. I don't know

EVERESTA DeFROST: Yes! Yes! Go, Oakley, go, you can do it!

OAKLEY GUNDERSON: Me, a normal girl, with a score of eight? I'm not out of this competition yet, folks!

* * *

 _"Grover Ridley, with a score of 11."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: AN 11?! From a District 7 tribute?! Wait, I'm getting a call, his odds just went up, he's tied with Calix!

BRINN REDWOOD: Oh, dear lord. I knew our guys were good but Grover has the most skill I've seen in years. This boy could be a contender for Victor. Which would be great, because I'm really, really sick of mentoring. Someone else can deal with Everesta.

GROVER RIDLEY: Oh, crap. Calix is not gonna be happy about this.

* * *

 _"From District 8, Incense Vasquez, with a score of 5."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: She's okay, I at least love her name. I just got some new incense inspired by the smells of District 4. Soothing...

BELLE CHIFFON: Ince told me that was the score she was going for. Well, mission accomplished. I tried to keep her from going to training at all, but I guess not all of us have the embers of rebellion sizzling in us.

INCY VASQUEZ: Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I had to keep myself from getting up and doing a happy dance.

* * *

 _"Lyndon Orange, with a score of 2."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: A 2?! I haven't seen a score that low in years! What is wrong with that boy? I will be very happy to see his guts splayed out on the grass after the bloodbath. Disgraceful.

BELLE CHIFFON: I don't even know what to say. Poor Lyndon. I hope that when he goes, it's fast and painless. Of course, there's always the unlucky chance that his skin will be flayed off by some savage Career tribute. I would almost suggest that he walks off his platform during the countdown.

LYNDON ORANGE: Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I screwed up.

* * *

 _"From District 9, Citlali Kenyie_ , _with_ _a_ _score_ _of_ _6._ "

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: I like Citlali a little more than the other outlier females, I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's her looks? Anyway, she got a good score, now let's hope she isn't a lousy bloodbath kid!

PETAL BALTY: I teared up a little. She did just great, and even though I always tell myself not to, I' growing attached to Citlali. It's going to be hard to watch her board that hovercraft in two days.

CITLALI KENYIE: Yay, a 6! I scored a 6! That is actually a great score for someone like me, I could've done way, way worse.

* * *

" _Atticus_ _Faux, with a_ _score_ of _5."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: Yeah, I like her partner a little less. He's average! Nothing special about him. I honestly would like to hear _this_ kid's story. I'm sure it's VERY interesting. (sarcasm)

PETAL BALTY: Aw man, Atticus looked like he wanted to cry. A 5 isn't bad! Hell, it was my score! He'll just have to work with it. I told him that the Gamemakers sometimes stretch scores, and that made him feel a little better.

ATTICUS FAUX: Ugh. I suck. Why, why did I have to score so low? Am I that dumb? _  
_

* * *

" _From_ _District 10, Astelle Landers, with a score of 6."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: Stelly is SO CUTE! She has an entire fan base right now, and they are going to wear all purple at her interview. Purple is her favorite color, after all! Eek! I cannot wait.

MONIQUA CAVELLE: Astelle did very good. A 6 is excellent. I am actually very excited. Astelle might, might come back. The thought of having a friend that went through what I went through makes me feel a little better about myself. Maybe I won't need rope after this.

ASTELLE LANDERS: A six is good, right? It's good? It's higher than what some kids got. I honestly never thought I was capable of such a decent score. Look out, world, here comes Stel!

* * *

 _"Kean Avrett, with a score of 7."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: Kean is the greatest. He is _so_ ripped, which almost all the girls swoon over. I'm a bit mad Aurelia is doing the interviews. I would have liked to have seen that hulk of a boy up close... oh well.

HUNTER RUIZ: I'm curious to ask Kean what exactly he did to earn a 7. Maybe I don't need to know. A magician never reveals his secrets, after all. Kean seems very capable, but I'm scared to death of the bloodbath. I lost great tributes to the damn bloodbath, and it breaks my sanity a little more every time.

KEAN AVRETT: My machete skills got me that 7. When I rise from that glass tube, the first thing I'm going to do is run in and swipe one. That may sound foolish, but if a simple weapon got me that score, I'm nothing without it.

* * *

 _"From District 11, Quinciana Aubergine, with a score of 5."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: Quincy, yay! I adore twelve-year-olds, and I think Quincy is the only one this year. There's Kyva, who's 13, but Quincy is stronger than her. I love when little kids lurk around the arena, almost ghost-like. It's disappointing when they suddenly drop to the ground and die, like idiots.

AUTUMN LEE: The last few Twelve females I've gotten have been Bloodbaths. I would love to say that this year is going to be different, but that's cliche and unrealistic. If I want it to devastate me less, count for the worst. Count for the worst.

QUINCY AUBERGINE: I'm proud of myself. Usually little kids score pathetically low, but I scored among the _big_ kids. I'm as good as they are. I have just as much chance to win this as they do. I may be a little too optimistic, but in the Hunger Games, why wouldn't you be?

* * *

 _"Galvan Clearcreek, with a score of 9."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: He got a 9? He got a 9! I am SO happy for him. That's just the kind of person I am. He's going to make it really, really far! But not before the Careers cut him down, of course. Then I will get to see the awesome Career showdown we've been wanting for years!

LIAM ALDAIR: Wow. Just, wow. Galvan got a 9? What did he do in there? Were the Gamemakers drunk? Or just extremely generous? Either way, Galvan is a threat, and he will need to be careful in the arena.

GALVAN CLEARCREEK: I am very, very satisfied with my score. I scored better than a Career, even. I know I don't have the skill and years of training like they do, but I'm going to bring home this victory for me and my family. _  
_

* * *

 _"From District 12, Lizereth Onne, with a score of 3."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: Ugh, another low-scoring kid. I can't stand these! She'll die soon, Jules, she'll die soon...

ASCHE KENDLEBURY: Lizereth... isn't right. I'm gonna have to force myself to look away when she's killed. It gets harder and harder every goddamn year to watch these kids die before my eyes.

LIZRETH ONNE: A three! Martin's all-time favorite number. He will be so pleased with me. I cannot wait to go back home and hug him again, kiss him again, feel his luscious scales. I'm sure he misses me, too.

* * *

 _And finally, Henerik Sarafian, with a score of 4."_

* * *

JULIA SUNDUSK: A lacking pair from 12 this year. What a shame! Vienna and Delaney made it to the Top 8 last year! Maybe better kids will come next year, who knows.

ASCHE KENDLEBURY: Henerik is the more... aware, for lack of a better word. That low score won't look good when sponsors are sending gifts. That is, if he survives the forsaken bloodbath at all.

HENERIK SARAFIAN: I'm royally screwed. What else can I say?

* * *

"There you have it! Now that you each tribute's score, don't be afraid to bet on your favorite pick to win at a Hunger Games Betting Association kiosks near you. Who knows, your tribute could win, and you could win big! Have a good night, Panem, and stay tuned for tomorrow, when I interview the tributes!" exclaimed Aurelia Polishire as the screen faded to black.

* * *

 **Scores:**

 **Victoria- 9**

 **Iridi- 9**

 **Cerys- 10**

 **Calix- 11**

 **Gratiana- 5**

 **Danylo- 5**

 **Tiger- 7**

 **Gleyn- 8**

 **Tyssa- 6  
**

 **Meric- 7  
**

 **Kyva- 3**

 **Styx- 7  
**

 **Oakley- 8**

 **Grover- 11**

 **Incy- 5**

 **Lyndon- 2  
**

 **Citlali- 6**

 **Atticus- 5**

 **Astelle- 6**

 **Kean- 7**

 **Quincy- 5  
**

 **Galvan- 9**

 **Liz- 3**

 **Rik- 4**

* * *

 **There you go, everyone's scores. I hope you are all satisfied with what your tribute received. Small chapter, but again, this was originally going to be in last chapter, but it got cut because the SUSPENSE! It was also supposed to just be the TV program itself and the reflections, but I felt like Styx hadn't gotten any screen time in a while. You all know what comes next, the interviews. I will see you there.**

 **-Ruby**


	14. Good Show

**The most anticipated part of the Pre-Games is here… the interview chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male_**

* * *

I've been trying to sleep but fury just blazes inside of me. How dare he. How dare that twerp from 7 score the same as me. It was almost a personal insult, and I won't let it stand. I almost want to talk to my Mentor about it, but Lucullus wouldn't understand. Neither would Spatha. They would both just tell me to "get over it". But I'll never get over it, not when I'm being threatened like this. I need to do something. And even though it seems strange considering our hostility, I feel like she would understand where I'm coming from.

I crack my door open, tiptoeing barefoot out of my room. My toes begin to numb, largely due to the amount of pressure I'm putting on them and how ice-cold the floor is. But I don't care. I find her room, which has light coming from it. It doesn't look like she's asleep either. Perfect.

I peek into Cerys' room and see her brushing her long brown hair on her bed, while watching some sort of TV program that looks like it could be for kids with its bright colors.

I knock lightly on the outside of her door, which makes her jump, but she then sighs in relief when she sees me.

"Oh. It's only you." she says coldly. She clicks the TV off and turns to me.

"What do you want?" she asks, a little hostile.

"I have a problem," I stutter, trying to use the right words. "with someone."

Cerys gives me a sideways look. "Me?" she asks. I shake my head and let out a deep sigh before answering.

"With Grover." I answer. Her face loosens up a little.

"So that's what this is about. You're mad at him, aren't you?" she questions. I nod at her numbly.

"That little idiot is rivaling my score. And I don't think he deserves to live for it." I tell her. A mischievous smile forms on Cerys' face. Even the corners of my lips curl a bit.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Calix?" she asks me evilly. I rapidly nod at her, as we seem to have the same idea.

"We're going to kill Grover." we say in unison.

"But the question is, when?" Cerys asks me. We could kill him at the bloodbath, but then he'll put up a fight. We need to do it when he least expects it.

"We can kill him in his sleep on Night 1," I inform her, and she begins to giggle.

"Clever, very clever." she muses. "But the others will get suspicious if the hovercraft collects him at the Cornucopia that night, they'll assume we did it."

I hadn't thought of that. "We can lure him away from that area and kill him quickly. When the rest are woken by the cannon, we'll say he was trying to sneak away." I assured.

Cerys begins to snicker. "Genius," she gushed. I laughed a little myself. This was going to go perfectly.

"I'm going to go catch some Z's" I tell her, "you should, too."

Cerys nods and gets into her blankets, snuggling. She starts to laugh again.

"I'm so excited for the Games." she grinned.

"Me, too." I tell her as I walk out of her room and back into mine for the night. That night, I dreamt about decapitating children in the bloodbath. That was the best dream I've ever had in my life.

 _The next morning…_

* * *

 ** _Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female_**

* * *

 _Beep! Beep! Beep!_

I nearly smash my alarm clock when I try to turn it off, hoping in vain that the annoying beeps will stop. I immediately shiver, as I try to figure out the source of my chills, I see all my blankets piled on the hardwood floor next to me. I must have kicked them off in my sleep, but why? I swear I never did anything like that at home. The only strange nighttime mystery I remember is the time Candelabra sleep-walked into my room when I was, oh, I don't know, 7 or 8? I smile a little, because Candelabra is safe from the Reaping forever. She will never have to worry about her name being drawn from that bowl.

 _But Incy, what if she was Reaped instead of you?_ I ask myself. Would I have volunteered, or allowed her to face her death instead of me? I have no idea, and I guess I'll never know. My stomach drops as I realize how close these Games actually are. It's 10 A.M. now… so in around 24 hours. Yikes.

I take off my silky green pajamas, which have become my favorite. I abandon them for some loose yoga pants and a grey t-shirt. I have a rough day ahead of me, Belle said she'll help me come up with an interview angle today. And after that, the interviews themselves. Just the thought makes my stomach drop again.

I walk out of my room, the welcoming smell of breakfast greeting my nostrils. Lyndon is already there, but his food is untouched. He's just staring down at the plate, as if he can actually see it.

"Hi, Lyndon," I say tiredly, and he cracks a tiny smile at the sound of my voice.

"Hi, Incy." he says back. I scoot into a chair next to him and cut his sausage into bits, sliding silverware into his hands.

"You remember where the plate is." I tell him, "Just stab your fork and you should find the food." Lyndon nods and blindly skewers a bit of sausage, shoving it into his mouth. He chews for an unusually long time. Belle, who is sitting across from us, folds her hands on the table.

"Okay, so, here's the deal guys," she begins, "we're going to work on interview angles this morning. Incense, you'll go with me, and Lyndon, you'll go with Stormy." I slowly nod, as she continues.

"When we're done we're going to pick your outfits, get you ready, and then the interviews start at 7:00." Belle clicks her tongue as she finishes her statement, picking at her breakfast. I turn to Lyndon, who has emptied his plate. He always seems more relaxed when I'm around him. Unfortunately, I can't defend anyone but myself in the arena. I don't think I'll be able to look when I see his face in the sky tomorrow night.

* * *

 ** _Henrik Sarafian, 16, District 12 Male_**

* * *

"No, no, no. Your posture is all wrong." the escort chastises. I groan at the fact that we have been practicing for the last two hours and I seemingly haven't gotten close to the result we wanted.

My angle was supposed to be spitfire and determined, but my voice always trembles when I try to deliver my lines. I call them that because I'm not really speaking from my own mouth, I have to pretend to be someone else.

"Say that statement with a bit more confidence, darling," escort lady says, crossing her arms at me. This woman seems like she already wants to go home or something, just anywhere except in this room with me, making no progress at all.

"I'm sure as all hell that I'm going to go home," I state. I cringe at that minor curse word, it is so not like me.

"Can't I just wing it?" I ask her. Her lips purse up at that question.

"Why, no! The last time I let someone do that, they just stood there and stared into the audience! The interview was a disaster! I'm not going to let that happen, I'm a better person than that." she hisses. She must have noticed me slouching again, because she delivers a swift strike to my back.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" I question, rubbing my back. I gasp a little because I realize I just cursed without noticing. Maybe I can drop a few curses to improve my angle a bit.

"Don't slouch, ever." she demands. I give her a mean glare, which she thankfully doesn't notice.

"We're almost reaching our time limit, Henrik. Now, if you fail this interview, that isn't my problem." she says rudely. This woman is pushing me over the edge, and I'm almost glad that I won't have to be around her for much longer.

"I'll go bring you to your stylist." the escort tells me. Now we get to pick my outfit.

 _Yay_ , I say in my head as we step inside an elevator, but escort hits the floor labeled "Prep". We shoot upward, but I realize the absence of a certain weirdo.

"Hey, where's Lizereth?" I ask her. She scowls at this question.

"She's already getting dressed. You see, she had a much better time with Asche, and she already found her angle," she says harshly, "unlike you."

This woman's bluntness is beginning to make me wish her flame-styled hair would really catch on fire.

* * *

 ** _Gratiana Brindle, 17, District 3 Female_**

* * *

My stylist Yama leads me down the hallway, and we pass at least six Avoxes creepily lined up along the walls like human dolls. I shudder as I pass the lifeless forms. Yama opens the sleek door leading into her office. As soon as I walk in, an overwhelming perfume scent invades my unprepared nostrils.

"Alright! So, my team has been designing some dresses for you after we measured you back on the chariot ride night. If you could, pick the one you like best." she informs me, as she clicks a button that reveals a row of dresses lined up along the wall, still pristine in their clear plastic bags.

"Hmm…" I think out loud, pulling out a much-too sparkly green dress and putting it back on the shelf. I comb through the dresses until one in particular catches my eye. A purple, swishy dress that falls to my knees.

"We liked that one," Yama comments as I pull the dress out of its bag. "We had designed it for our Three Female last year but she chose another one, I think." I hold the dress up to my body, grinning.

"I think I want to wear this one." I tell Yama. She squeals and removes the hanger, handing it to me and directing me out of the room.

"There's a changing room you can go into to get dressed," Yama says, "and after that we'll decide on hair, jewelry, makeup, all that stuff. You are going to look SO pretty!" says Yama excitedly, almost like a child in a candy store. Little bits of excitement creep in my belly, too. I'm looking forward to having three Capitolites make me over, perhaps it will take my mind off the fact that by this time tomorrow, I'll be in the arena.

* * *

 ** _Kyva Ruun, 13, District 6 Female_**

* * *

"Kyva, come out! I know you're ready!"

The escort Pippi has been banging on the door for a while now, demanding me to be ready to go, but I had gotten dressed in my lilac dress a while ago. I was just sitting in this dressing room, behind a locked door, for an hour. I've never been more nervous in my life. Mrs. Harriss explained the interviews to me, and at first they didn't seem all that bad. But now that I think about it, the thought of having hundreds of shiny Capitol eyes on me, focusing on my every movement. If I make one mistake, it's over. Any hope for sponsors, as they are called, will be lost. I was told that sponsors give you gifts in the arena if you aren't doing well, like matches and food and sometimes weapons. But I haven't a clue how to use weapons, given by my measly three in training. And I have no allies, either. So that doesn't help much.

"I'm coming," I tell the woman flatly, and as soon as I open the door, her formerly disgruntled expression turns to one of joy.

"Don't you look darling!" she squeals. "Now, all we have to do is-"

 _Ring, ring!_

"Hello?" Pippi answers over the phone, whose face suddenly looks horrified.

"Are you serious?" she nods repeatedly, beginning to bite on her perfectly manicured nail.

"Okay. I will just have to get them ready quicker," she says, exasperated, and hangs up the phone and gives me a long stare.

"There's been a change of plans. The interviews will take place across town, not where we originally anticipated. We have to leave now!" she scurries over to the elevator, motioning for me to come inside. We shoot downwards where Styx is waiting, looking upset in his tight black tux that he looks rather handsome in.

"We will be going there via car," she tells us, and we climb inside. My family couldn't ever afford a car, except for the time I rode from the Justice Buildg after I was Reaped.

Pippi tells us we can wave but not to go too crazy. Styx isn't waving at all, just shooting the crowds piled on the streets dirty looks. I just wave timidly, and they seem to love that. We turn a corner, where I see a kiosk giving away free cupcakes. I would love to wander the streets of the Capitol alone but I'm confined to this car. I'll get plenty of time to wander when I'm in the arena.

I get a little carsick from the ride, but we arrive in less than fifteen minutes. Pippi opens to door for me, revealing a grand, golden building where the interviews will probably take place. I can see other tributes piling in, including the scary girl from 1. Mrs. Harriss told me that she's bad. Very bad. We accidentally bump into each other, and instead of swearing to behead me or something, she does something I don't expect.

"Sorry about that, little lady." she says sweetly. The girl catches up with her district partner, and I'm stunned. Was that girl from District 1 actually nice to me?

"Come on, Kyva! We have to get you guys ready!" shouts Pippi. Our mentor is nowhere to be seen, because I could really use Mrs. Harriss right now to comfort me. Hopefully she is waiting for me on my respective floor. We enter the elevator marked "6" and fly upward until we reach the room. There, my prep team waits, one with a flat iron in hand.

The process is long, but the result is satisfactory. My formerly wavy hair is now a sleek sheet that falls to my shoulders. Minimal makeup is applied, because I'm going to have to go for the "cute and bubbly" angle. I hope my parents will be impressed with my interview. The loudspeaker announces that the interviews will start in three minutes.

"Tributes, please line up in the 3-B hall and wait for when your name is called."

I am ushered into a well-lit waiting room, where tributes sit in comfy chairs, waiting for their turn. We can all hear Aurelia Polishire welcoming the audience and doing the introductions.

"Good evening, Panem!" Aurelia shouts wildly. The entire audience is screaming at the top of their lungs, just dying to get a look at this year's tributes.

"Are you all ready? Because tonight, on this very special night, the eve of the 110th Hunger Games, we get to meet this year's batch!" she says excitedly. I'm glad we're all tucked in this lobby, because the volume has gotten painfully loud. Thankfully, it looks like the host is gonna get this stupid thing started.

"Please welcome the lovely Career from District 1, Victoria Rochas!"

* * *

 ** _Tiger Kaley, 17, District 4 Female_**

* * *

Victoria waltzes onstage in her sparkly pale green dress. I sort of tune out her interview and stare into my knees.

Grover and Oakley shuffle over to me for some reason, seating themselves in the chairs next to me.

"Hey, guys." I tell them. Grover waves at me weakly, and Oakley offers me a smile. We all turn to Victoria's interview, which seems to be going well, because Vicky has Aurelia chuckling and the audience roaring in laughter.

"I was like 'Hey! Give me back my dress!' That little kid stole my beloved Reaping dress, and I had to go out, and get another one! Ugh!" Victoria recalls. Aurelia rubs her shoulder reassuringly.

"Well, the new one was absolutely gorgeous," Aurelia tells Victoria, and the question shifts.

"So, regarding the Games, what's your plan, Victoria?" Aurelia asks her. Victoria seemingly thinks for a moment before answering.

"Well, I'm just going to have faith in my allies, and hopefully we'll pull through till the end," she explains, and her buzzer rings.

"Let's give it up for Victoria Rochas of District 1!" Aurelia shouts, and deafeningly loud applause and cheering fills the interview hall. She walks up to her seat above the stage where the interviews take place, still in full view of the audience. The tributes who completed their interviews sit there. There are two rows, on the top, Districts 1-6, on the bottom, Districts 7-12. Iridi straightens his tie and strides out into the blinding spotlights.

"Now, please help me in welcoming Iridi Lotu!" Aurelia exclaims. Iridi is led onto the stage, as the rest of us pile around the monitor.

"Welcome, Iridi, welcome!" Aurelia chirps, as Iridi seats himself at the fancy-looking chair next to her. Iridi is charming and funny, winning over the crowds with an amusing anecdote, told in a similar fashion to Victoria.

"So, any family at home?" Aurelia asks him. For some strange reason, Iridi tenses up, and a single bead of sweat courses down his forehead.

"Y-yes." he stutters, quickly regaining his composure. "There's my beautiful mother, my wonderful sister, and my awesome dad. Love you guys!" he says straight into the audience, earning a collective "aww" from the audience.

"How do you feel about scoring a 9, Iridi?" Aurelia questions. Iridi rubs the back of his neck, a little off-put at the mentioning of his score. It wasn't a bad score, he was probably just expecting more.

"It's fine, I guess. It reflects my skill, the skill that will allow me to be crowned Victor!" The entire hall fills with roaring and clapping, almost drowning out the buzzer. But not quite.

"Let's have a round of applause for Iridi Lotu, everybody!" Aurelia announces. Iridi lightly jogs up the flight of stairs leading to his seat next to Victoria, who high-fives him. Cerys gets up gingerly, as if she's trying not to crinkle her dress.

"Now, for District 2! Please give a warm welcome to Miss Cerys Asana from District 2!"

Cerys is wearing a long, strapless silver dress, waving to the crowds. And with the glittering tiara on her head, she almost looks like a princess.

"Cerys! Cerys! Welcome, please, sit!" Aurelia squeals. Cerys lets out a childish giggle, hinting of how her interview is going to play out.

She went for an "adorable" angle, which admittedly isn't too bad for her. She looks a little younger than she is, and trying to go for a tougher angle may have led to her not being taken seriously. With this angle, Cerys seems like a sweet girl on the outside, but a cold-blooded killer on the inside. Just the right ingredients for insanity. Throughout the interview, Cerys made the audience gush when she mentioned her life back home as a helper at a retirement home. Sounds nice and all, but we'll get to see her true side tomorrow. Calix's interview, however, was almost a polar opposite.

"Now for the next half of this Career duo, please welcome Calix Livianus from District 2!"

Calix stomps onstage, not literally, but considering how heavy that boy is, he may as well be shaking the entire hall with his elephant steps. If he plows over a tiny tribute, considering all the broken bones they'll have afterward, they're finished. He also wipes his face as soon as he gets onstage, revealing his grotesque scars. Once he sits down, the crowd is going crazy for their favorite. Calix answers his questions with single words, and also begins pulling on the sleeves of his beige suit. His interview wasn't the greatest, but his strength alone will win him sponsors.

"How do you feel about your training score, Calix?" Aurelia mentions. This gets a few more words out of the boy.

"It was awesome. I have a feeling that no one will want to mess with me," he growls. Someone lets out a horrified whimper, and we all turn to the girl from 6. We don't tease her or anything, because she's dying tomorrow. Might as well make her last night alive decent enough. Calix's buzzer sounds and he's, once again, stomping up the stairs. He seats himself next to Cerys and they begin to chat among themselves. I could have sworn Calix told me he hated Cerys, but I guess they mended. The District 3 female rises, muttering a few words to her partner before vanishing onto the stage. I just realized my interview is way closer than I thought.

"Now, for District 3! Please welcome the lovely Gratiana Brindle!"

Gratiana nervously steps onstage, a sheepish grin on her face. This makes the audience go crazy, and once she gets to her seat, Aurelia has to quiet them down so she can at least ask a question. She is a modest and quiet girl, but she looks lovely in her pretty purple dress. Gratiana also begins talking about her training and how she feels "completely prepared" for these Games.

"I'm just going with my instinct," she says wearily, "and hopefully win this thing and go home." Gratiana finishes her statement with an exasperated sigh, but before everyone can start to feel sorry for her, the buzzer is heard. Gratiana waves to the crowd before carefully walking up the stairs, because the last thing she wants to do is trip in her high heels. After climbing up the stairs she reaches her seat right next to Calix. The camera shows her visibly shuddering, and almost immediately scooting a seat away from him.

"Up next, we have Danylo Sepia from District 3!"

Danylo walks to his chair in a much more confident manner than Gratiana. In his sharp suit, he looks almost like a little business man. The camera pans to several of Danylo's fans, which have been nicknamed "Fanylos" according to Sirena. I hope I'm not disgraced with a ridiculous nickname like that.

One of the fans holds up a poster with Danylo's face and a Victor's crown on his head. This earns the tiniest of smiles from him.

Danylo's interview could be considered a success, because he spoke with confidence and didn't stutter or anything. He spoke articulately and clearly, explaining his life back home as a programmer and how he had hoped to become one. His use of the word "hoped" saddens me, because everyone, including him, knows that only pure luck will bring this boy home.

"So, Danylo, as you know, the Games start tomorrow. Are you prepared?" Aurelia asks curiously. Danylo simply replies by saying he will be prepared to expect anything, calling the Gamemakers "innovative" and that their arena choice this year will surely top last year. The whole hall begins to clap politely for Danylo until the buzzer sounds and he speed walks up to his seat next to Gratiana.

"Now, for the fishing District! Please welcome Miss Teila Kaley!"

"Oh, crap, I'm next." I mumble. I'm about to get up and get this thing over with, but Grover firmly grabs my arm.

"Meet me on the rooftop tonight." he says in a tense whisper.

"What? Why-"

"Just meet me there after the interviews, okay?" Grover releases me, and his expression melts into a smile.

"Knock em' dead, Tiger." he encourages. Oakley and Gleyn clap for me as I prepare to go do my interview.

"Yeah, let's go, Tiger!" Gleyn says whilst clapping. I don't think he saw what happened.

"Good luck out there!" Oakley says warmly. I nervously wave to her, but Grover continues to send me a cold stare. I'm greatly unsettled, but I force myself to shake this off and put on a mask of happiness.

As I step onto that stage, my vision begins to blur a little, but I regain my sight as the applause rattles my bones. I find the plush seat next to Aurelia, who is patting it, motioning for me to sit. Everything feels like some sort of weird dream, because I am literally in the eyes of all of Panem right now.

"Hello, hello!" Aurelia giggles, and she wastes no time in asking me a question.

"So, Teila, have you enjoyed your stay here so far?" Aurelia asks me.

"It's been great!" I chirp, with false happiness dripping from my words. "It's just a shame I have to leave tomorrow, but I'll try to keep myself together until I get back," I retort. Several cheers rise from the audience. I've already won these idiots over.

"Oh, confident, are we? I like it!" she says excitedly, folding her legs.

"So, Teila-"

"Please, call me Tiger." I tell her. histles are heard as a puzzled expression finds itself on Aurelia's face.

"Tiger? What's the origin of that name?" she asks me.

"Well, back home, I used to pounce on fish to catch them. My best friend Rayden came up with that name for me. He's my main inspiration for winning this thing." I get a collective "aww" from the audience. The rest of the interview is simple questions about training, easy as pie. The loud buzzer sounds, and my interview ends.

I let out a giant sigh of relief as I walk back to my seat above the interview stage, sitting next to the boy from 3. So far, only Iridi, Vicky, Cerys, Calix, the kids from 3, and me are sitting here. The rest are still waiting in the lobby. Next is my District partner. I part of me is hoping that he'll mess up.

Gleyn strode onstage with an aura of confidence. He looked completely relaxed, ignoring all of the eyes on him, all the cameras pointed at him, all the lights shining. He just put on a cool face. Gleyn's interview was one of the better ones. He talked about his little sister, telling a story about how she had been upset by someone the day of the Reaping because her hair had been called ugly. This gains sympathy from the audience, but resurfaces a memory from me.

 _"Is there a problem, missy?"_

I remember that I had uttered those exact words at the little brat from the square. That must have been who Gleyn was referring to. My palms begin to get slippery, probably from all the sweat. Suddenly I'm more nervous than I had been at the interview. But why, all I have to do is keep my mouth shut. I just don't tell him. But what if he already knows? What if his brat of a sister told him it was me at the goodbyes? I'm done. He would kill me in the damn bloodbath.

 _Just run away, Tiger,_ I tell myself, _just run away._

But I haven't the slightest idea of how to survive on my own. I'm okay with a spear, but there isn't even a guarantee that I'll swipe one. And why the hell did Grover want to see me? Was it to warn me that Gleyn knows what happened? I'm trying to tell myself that I am getting worried over nothing, it was just a small conflict. But this is the Hunger Games, and he could kill me for that. In fact, he's going to kill me for that.

 _Oh, God,_ I think in my head, my face crumbling. _I'm screwed._

* * *

 ** _Italia Minicius, 37, Jeweler and Capitol Citizen_**

* * *

Wow, I can see everything from these seats! They were a little expensive, but it was all worth it. Felix has been dreaming about coming to the interviews for years, and he's 8. I'm happy that the Games are now becoming a part of his life. He always talks about them, and life seems to move very, very slowly until they arrive. He made his very first bet today. He bet on Calix Livianus to win, Grover Ridley to come in 2nd, and Teila Kaley to come in third. I'm proud my son made a trifecta on his own.

"Oh, look, Felix, it's Tyssa," I whisper to him. "See? The pretty girl in the green skirt?" Felix examines the stage until he seemingly spots her.

"There she is!" he exclaims, prompting a shush from a few people in our row. I make a small gesture of apology before focusing back on the stage.

"Hello, Tyssa! You look charming tonight!" Aurelia giggles. Tyssa does look quaint in her flowing white blouse and green skirt. It's not too "out there" like some of the interview dresses I've seen in this past decade.

"Thanks," she says sweetly and quietly. Her introvert angle works well for her. She talked about her family and about how much she would love to return to their open arms. This triggers thunderous applause that eats up much of her interview. Aurelia has time to ask her one more question more before that timer sounds.

"So, you seem pretty skilled based on your score. What's your strategy?" asks Aurelia. Tyssa gives the crowd a dark smile, and turns back to the host before answering.

"A magician never reveals her secrets," she says cunningly. Almost a split second after this bold statement the buzzer rings, and Tyssa is skipping up the stairs back to her seat, Strangely enough, she begins rubbing her head as if it's bothering her.

"Now, let's give it up for Turmeric Saucer of District 5!" Aurelia cries. The boy everyone loves strides out in a red dress shirt and black slacks. He is much more cheerful than his partner, laughing by the time he reaches his seat. All of us are going _nuts_ for him, including Felix. He has come to adore Turmeric despite the fact that he has not labeled him as a Victor.

"Welcome, Turmeric, welcome! Great name, by the way!" she says giddily. We have started to chant his name over and over.

"You can call me Meric," he says coolly, "and my parents are the ones who gave me that name, not me. They're pretty much my world." Aurelia asks him some questions about home, and he says that he worked in a restaurant with his boss and his best friend, Colleen. Of course, we all go crazy when he mentions this special someone, who he claims is "just a friend", but he totally said this while blushing! Turmeric proceeds to talk about his high score and how satisfied he is with it.

 _Buzz!_

What seems to be groans of disappointment rival the sound of the buzzer, because apparently people want to hear more. He makes his way up the stairs and sits next to Tyssa. He still has everyone talking about him by the time the Six female comes on.

"He's a chef, mommy?" Felix asks me.

"Yes, darling, I think he mentioned that. I had a hunch." I whisper into his ear. Aurelia has to quiet us down, but it's then that I notice the Six girl already onstage. I admittedly did not notice her sneak on.

"So, Kyva, how are you feeling about the Games?" Aurelia questions. Kyva doesn't answer, instead, she just stares at her feet and begins to blubber.

"I...I..." she attempts to say, but finds herself hopelessly stumbling on her words. Poor little girl. The rest of the interview is no different. She manages to force out an answer to one of Aurelia's questions after a bit of comforting and coercing from the host. Thankfully, her buzzer rings, and the little girl is freed from her seat and she wastes no time in rushing up the stairs, away from the public eye.

"Please give a warm welcome to Styx Gasket, everyone!"

Styx slowly makes his way to the interview chair, glaring at Aurelia once he sits down. A rebellious boy, perhaps? I always find tributes like that interesting, but they can't go too far. Unless they want to be blown up before the Games even begin.

"Hi, Styx!" greets Aurelia. Styx just mumbles a response barely audible. Aurelia seemingly contemplates on whether to ask him to repeat himself, but time is of the essence.

"So, Styx, everyone has been wondering. How did you manage to pull of the impressive score of 7?" she asks. I'm praying Styx will give an answer that I can actually hear, because I would love to know. Styx answers my prayers.

"I just did my thing," he said much louder, "and I'm kind of proud of myself."

Pride. Not an admirable quality in a tribute, but maybe some people find it attractive to sponsors. Styx speaks up after that, but answered his questions in a monotone voice. He's obviously over these Pre-Games ceremonies, so I'm sure he'll be entertained once he gets into the arena. The buzzer buzzes and Styx gleefully rises from his chair and walks up the flight of stairs to his seat.

"Now, from everyone's favorite lumber district, please welcome Oakley Gunderson from District 7!"

Oakley gracefully glides into view, wearing a flowing silver dress and black flats. Tributes from 7 usually sport earth-tones, so something metallic from their district was a pleasant surprise.

"Hi there, Miss Gunderson!" squeals Aurelia. Oakley never breaks her cool, not missing her step or tripping, or even showing any look of fear. She was just going with the flow.

"Hi, Aurelia." she says back. Aurelia asks her if she's been enjoying herself, to which Oakley replies that she's having the time of her life, but that the real fun is "only just beginning." That statement alone filled me with hype. Aurelia then asks her about the Careers, to which she replies that she is very thankful that they let her into the Pack, and that they will not be disappointed. Man, so many great interviews. I have no idea who I want to sponsor. After Oakley waves goodbye and leaves, her much-anticipated partner makes his appearance, sporting a forest green shirt and black slacks.

"The boy you've all been waiting for, Grover Ridley from District 7!" Aurelia proclaims.

The cheering was maybe the loudest when he came on, maybe even louder than Calix. And that's saying something.

"Welcome, Grover!" she giggles. Grover kisses her hand, causing Aurelia to blush tremendously.

"Why, what a gentleman!" Aurelia says, high on excitement and euphoria. I think it's safe to say that Grover Ridley had the best interview, and there were a lot of good interviews this year. He effortlessly rolled off of Aurelia's remarks, and the two just had good chemistry. He also mentioned his excitement about his high score, his training, and how excited he is for the Games tomorrow.

"I like him, Mommy," Felix says in a hushed voice, and I wink at him as Grover leaves and the District 8 Female's interview arrives.

"Moving onto District 8! Let's all say hello to Incense Vasquez!"

Incense walks onstage wearing a puffy, soft-looking dress. It looked wonderful to wear. She offers us a weak smile before sitting down and proceeding to answer Aurelia's questions.

"Hey, Incense! Have you been having fun so far?" Aurelia asks the girl, leaning in her seat.

"I have," Incense replies, "and just call me Incy. We're all friends here, right?" she says tiredly. The crowd giggles.

"That we are!" Aurelia chirps. That was probably the high point of her interview, because the rest of it was pretty dull. She wasn't nervous or anything, she just spoke rather slowly and in a low voice. I was almost relieved when she trudged offstage.

"Up next: Lyndon Orange from District 8!"

Oh, no. This boy was pretty much going to be a pity party rather than an actual interview. Everyone knew he was blind, because an Avox had to escort him to his seat. Once Lyndon got to his seat, however, his Avox had to go further and face him to Aurelia. The sightless boy begins to nervously twiddle his thumbs.

"Hey there, Lyndon. How are you tonight?" asks Aurelia.

"Fine, I guess." he shakily replies. Aurelia tries to keep his questions simple, and most of the interview centered on his home life. He mentioned his late mother, his loving father. This melted the hearts of everyone with a soft spot. For bloodthirsty fans, they probably couldn't wait until this boy was in ribbons. Once his buzzer sounds, he's led up the stairs by his Avox, who sits him next to Incy. Incy whispers something into Lyndon's ear, but I'm no mouth reader.

I must have spaced out, because Felix is directing me to the District 9 Female, who is now onstage.

* * *

 _ **Aurelia Polishire, 28, Host of the 110th Hunger Games**_

* * *

'Next, we have the delightful Citlali Kenyie!" I declare. The crowd begins to whoop for this girl, who comes onstage dressed in a tan dress and and gold belt with her district's emblem on it. She looks pretty adorable, to be honest. I decide to bring that up.

"I love your outfit, Citlali! Very creative, and true to your district!" I tell her. This emits a light-hearted giggle from her. She seems relaxed. Thank goodness.

"Wow, thanks!" she chirps. "It means a lot coming from you." I visibly blush from this sweet compliment, and I know in my mind that this girl has already won sponsors. Her interview goes surprisingly well considering the amount of sobbing children I usually receive from her district. A nice change of pace. Now I guess we'll see how her partner will fare. Citlali's interview ends and she walks up to her seat. By the time she reaches it, her partner is nervously creeping onstage.

"Come on out, Atticus!" I shout to him, loud enough so that he can hear over the sound of cheering. He hesitantly shuffles onto the set, slumping down into his chair.

"Why don't we make this tribute feel welcome, everyone!" I exclaim. Despite the loud volume, he seems to have calmed down a little, because he has stopped nervously bouncing his leg.

"Hey, there! How are you tonight?" I ask him sympathetically. His eyes shift upward, and he looks almost horrified to see himself onscreen.

"Nervous," he spits out.

"What is there to be nervous about? We aren't a demanding crowd!" The crowd bursts into laughter at this, but Atticus' face turns stone cold.

"I'm nervous about the Games."

The whole crowd goes almost silent, save for some murmurs.

 _Crap, I gotta save him._ I tell myself frantically.

"Understandable, but let's be honest. I would be flailing my arms around like I child if I were in the Games!" I joke. The entire interview hall bursts into laughter, and Atticus mouths the words thank you to me. His buzzer rings, and give myself a little imaginary pat on the back, relieved that the interview was saved.

 _Nailed it._

I waste no time getting into the next interview, the girl from 10. Luckily, she was a much better time.

"Now, moving onto District 10! Let's welcome Miss Astelle Landers!" I shout. The District 10 Female skips onstage, wearing a cow-print vest and blue jeans. She wasn't wearing an overly-feminine dress like most females, a smart move on her stylist's part. And considering her already tomboyish appearance, this outfit looks good on her.

"Howdy, Astelle! Looking sharp!" I tell the cow girl. She simply giggles and thanks me with the same cheesy-sounding accent I used. She naturally doesn't have one, but it's only a stereotype anyway.

Her interview was pretty easy. She wasn't nervous, spoke with energy, and was just a bubbly girl. We had humorous exchanges, earning some points with the crowd. There were exceptions, but so far, these interviews were some of the easiest I've had in years.

"Please welcome Astelle's partner, Kean Avrett!" I cry out. Kean adjusts his brown jacket as he walks into the spotlight, all eyes on him. He seems slightly nervous, but shakes it off by the time I ask the first question.

"So, Kean, how's life back home?" I ask him. For around a split second, his face contorts into a frown, but plasters on a smile after his face muscles sagged.

"Life's been great. I'm looking to win this thing for my love, Damien. I'm doing this for him." A suggestive whistle rises from the crowd, and they begin to demand more details.

"More! More!" shouts someone from the crowd. Kean smiles and tells us that Damien is his best friend and true love, before shifting the topic to his high score. He says that the score surprised even him, and that it made him confident in his abilities.

 _Buzz!_

Kean's heartwarming interview ends, and he humbly makes his way up to his seat. By now, most of the tributes are outside the lobby. Only the kids from 11 or 12 are still awaiting their interview. I'm doing my best to assure that the people do not get bored, because that would be a huge disadvantage to the District 12 Male.

Little Quince Aubergine comes out wearing a plain black dress and a silver collar. With the collar, she looks almost like a cute little puppy.

"Looking cute, Quince!" I exclaim. "Do you mind if I call you that?"

"That's fine," she says nonchalantly, adjusting herself in her chair, which makes her look tiny because her feet hover off the ground. Many people are falling in love with this adorable tribute, who, despite her age, scored decently. Quince's interview consisted of her talking about her interesting home life, which consists of best friends and clubhouses. A pleasant upbringing for someone from District 11, and she seems to want to return to it.

"You'll be the first twelve year old in history to win the Games, Quince." I remind her.

"I know, and I'm going to make history." she says confidently. This earns her a standing ovation, which she seems to be happy about. Once her buzzer ends, everyone is obsessed over this spitfire twelve-year-old. Her tall District partner appears, wearing a sun yellow suit and a matching tie. The yellow was a bit off-putting at first, but actually looked nice against his dark skin.

"Please welcome Galvan Clearcreek!" I cry. Galvan gives me a firm, formal handshake before we both sit down and begin the interview. I ask Galvan about home, to which he replies that he has a whopping _fourteen_ siblings and that that's why he volunteered, to win the money to whisk them all out of poverty. But then I mention his impossibly high score, a 9. He chuckles as soon as I bring that up.

"I kind of wanted to aim that high. You know, to put me on the Career's radar, if you will." I look up to see the camera panning to a disgruntled look on various Careers faces. Galvan just smirks on proceeds with his interview.

Once the buzzer sounds and Galvan walks to his seat, District 12 sours the entire affair, bringing it to a standard outlier level in terms on quality. First in this disappointing duo is Lizereth Onne, whose interview was just... weird. The entire time, she just talked about someone named Martin. I tried asking her who this "Martin" was, but she kept ignoring my questions and talking more about him. It was strange and unsettling, but trust me, not even her interview compared to Henrik Sarafian's.

First off, the moment he came out, he was sweating rivers. This soaked his charcoal suit, making it drip. But the second he came on, he lost his footing and tripped. Unfortunately, the crowd burst into laughter.

I tried my best to save him. Really, I did. But his one-word answers and rude remarks made him dig his own grave. He might as well already be dead.

"L-let's give a big round of applause to Henrik Sarafian, everyone!" Scattered applause is heard, but it grows once the closing theme plays.

"And those were this year's tributes, everybody! Stay tuned, for tomorrow, the Games begin!" I shout at the top of my lungs. The tributes rise for the anthem of Panem, and once it's done, everyone is piling out of the building and the tributes are going backstage.

"Good night, Panem!" I say one more time before the lights dim.

* * *

 _ **Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female**_

* * *

Backstage is a frenzy. Galvan and I are searching the crowd for Autumn's burgundy hair, so she can take us home. I accidentally bump into quite a few tributes, thankfully no Careers. Galvan taps on my shoulder to tell me that he found Autumn. Upon seeing us, she squeals with delight, entrapping us in a bear hug.

"You guys did _wonderful!"_ says Autumn in delight, releasing us from her suffocating grip.

"We can head upstairs and you pretty much have the rest of the night to yourself. But remember to get some rest. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." she offers. Autumn leads us into an elevator, clicking a button labeled "ground". The trip takes longer than usual.

"Are you two nervous?" Autumn asks. I don't answer, but Galvan stiffly shakes his head. I'm afraid of him. Sure, he seems charming and nice, but that could be a mask just to lure me in so I trust him. And then, when I don't expect it, I get a knife to the back. In fact, that's what I'm preparing for so I'm not caught off-guard. Autumn speaks up after a few awkward moments of silence.

"It's okay if you are. I had a nervous breakdown the night before my Games," she tells us. "You think the hard part is over, but it's only just beginning."

This statement doesn't make me feel any better. I just did a live interview in front of all of Panem! My friends and family were watching. But now they get to watch me die. I hope that their power goes out or something during the bloodbath. But while power outages are common in Eleven, it always stays intact during the Games. I don't recall a single time we lost power while they were going on.

The elevator dings, and we reach street level, where several limos identical to the ones used to transport us here wait. The shining lights of the cars almost look like fireflies in the pitch black evening.

* * *

 _ **Oakley Gunderson, 16, District 7 Female**_

* * *

Grover and I were one of the first to get back in our cars, where Everesta and Brinn were waiting. We both seat ourselves in the very back of the limo, where Grover whispers to me yet again. I'm not sure why, our mentors are three seats ahead of us, and they seem to be talking to each other.

"Are you sure she's going to say yes?" I ask him nervously.

"She has to," Grover tells me harshly. That pretty much ends the conversation ends. The rest of the car ride consists of short stares and fogging up the car windows with our breath. I draw a little heart in the window just take occupy my mind.

"We're almost there, guys." Everesta tells us. Thank god. I'm getting consumed by the thought of Teila declining our proposal and telling the Careers what we're up to. We would both die, and all our efforts would be in vain.

The car comes to a stop at the Training Center, and we exit the vehicle along with the kids from 9. The girl shoots me a sad look, while the boy just stares at the ground blankly. We're seperated once Everesta ushers us into an elevator, sending us up to our floor, the trip taking less than ten seconds. During the ride, silence fills the air until Brinn breaks it.

"You guys did good," he says hoarsely. This prompts a curt nod from Grover but nothing else. I'm much too nervous to talk right now. Maybe after I get a positive response from Tiger, I'll loosen up a bit.

Once we reach our floor, a giant clock on the wall reads 9:30. We'l have to sneak up to the roof once Everesta, Brinn, and the escort retire to bed.

"Alright, you guys. I would say get some sleep, because you have a big day tomorrow," Brinn says wearily.

"Yeah," Grover says, "I'm excited for sure." This causes the tiniest of smiles to form on Everesta's lips.

"I'm glad to hear that. The last thing we want is for you to suddenly get scared, because believe me, it's happened more than once." Everesta hangs her head and heads off to bed. Brinn follows her, oddly heading into the same room as her. Maybe they need to talk, or maybe they need something to take their minds off the fact that we might not come back alive. It's better than a drug addiction, at least.

"So, when do you want to do it?" I ask Grover. He glances at the clock again.

"We can do it now. I told her after the interviews." he proposes. "She might not be there yet, but we can wait." I nod at him before going to my room to change out of this slightly uncomfortable dress. I begin to involuntarily shake out of fear, but I sink my fingernails into my palm to bring me back to reality. It works, at least to the point where I can put on new clothes.

Once I dress, I exit my room almost at the same time as Grover. He turns his head to Everesta's room, then to me.

"Let's do this." he mumbles. We shout in the general area of Everesta's room that we are gong to talk in the garden.

"Okay!" she shouts through the door. "Don't be gone too long, kids!" We quickly rush into the elevator, tapping the button with a roof and a flower. Rooftop garden.

We arrive in less than ten seconds, but no ones there. Maybe she just didn't get to her floor.

"We'll wait," Grover tells me, his teeth chattering in the cold nighttime air. I would almost want to go get a blanket, but I don't want to miss Tiger. She'll come eventually.

Minutes pass. Eventually hours, or what I am assuming is hours. I have no sense of time out here. I just stare into the colorful skyline of the Capitol, where people are going nuts in the streets, chanting "Hunger! Hunger! Hunger!" Grover remains still as a statue, but it it evident that his fear is growing as well.

Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity, the elevator dings. Is it Calix? Gleyn? Did she rat us out? Are we both gonna die?

In an almost divine revealing, my heart nearly stops, but starts beating again as I look into the sea green eyes of Teila Kaley. I almost want to go up and hug her, out of just how happy I am to see her, but she doesn't know of our offer yet. She still has to accept.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" she asks defensively. Grover leads her to the edge of the building, away from most of the poorly-hidden microphones in the potted plants.

"Listen," said Grover in a hushed, tense voice. "I have a proposal for you."

Teila gives him a sideways look, already confused. "What?"

"I want to make an alliance," he says breathlessly to her, "with you and Oakley." He motions to me, and beads of sweat begin to trickle down her forehead, causing her makeup to run.

"Why me?" she questions.

"Because you were Reaped. So was Oakley. And to be honest, I'm scared as all hell because I scored as high as Calix. That psycho's going to kill me." As Grover makes this remark he looks around the area cautiously, as if Calix is lurking around the corner. "Well? Are you in?"

"Well, I, um," she stutters, slightly shocked. "Okay. But why are we making this alliance, besides Calix?"

"I also want to be able to pick up an axe and some supplies without being targeted by the other Careers," Grover explains, and he turns to me.

"We'll just have to avoid Calix and get the hell out of there." I say dryly.

"Alright then," she muses, "Allies?" She offers out her hand, and Grover shakes it roughly, followed by my own handshake.

"Allies."

* * *

 **DUN DUN DUN! Plot twist (not really). I'm going to admit, I'm glad the Pre-Games are all over. Now, we can get into the ACTUAL Games! Eek! I'm so excited! Thank you all for your support throughout this slower part of the story, but now we get to move into the part we've all been waiting for. Who do you think is going to die, who are your picks for Victor? Remember, REVIEW! It really helps. Can we reach 100 by the time the Games start! That would be rad! There might be a pre-bloodbath chapter after this, but we are pretty much in the Games now. All I can say from now is, good luck.**

 **-Maia**


	15. Last Moments

**Just so that you don't get your hopes up too much, this is a PRE-bloodbath chapter. The morning of the Games. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

* * *

I lazily open my eyes, which are instantly flooded with bright sunlight. I stretch, as I hear clattering plates. My heart stops as I realize what day it is. It's the day that the Hunger Games start. I glance at the clock on the wall. It has changed, now, instead of displaying the time, it displays the time until the Games start. The clock reads 1:09:32. Which essentially means I have little over an hour to live. My last glance of the world will be the tip of a sharp sword. Then it will all go black. The thought causes me to hyperventilate, and I feel like I'm on the brink of passing out, but they would only mean I get blown up at the beginning. Which, to be honest, sounds preferable.

I get dressed in a loose outfit, for the last time. I make my bed, for the last time. It felt awful to know that every time I did something, it was the last time I would be doing it. All of this comfort will be left behind. I'm going into the freaking Hunger Games. I'm going to die.

"Citlali, come out! You need time to eat before the Games!"

The squeaky voice of the escort calls for me, which forces me out of my room because I had collapsed by the door. I slowly turn the knob, and the smell of food reaches my stomach. I know I need to eat but I have no appetite. I turn over to the living room, where Petal sits on the couch, smiling at me pitifully. I run over to her, tears pricking my eyes. By the time I get to her I'm full out sobbing. By the end of the day I'm going to be a ghost. Dead. No longer living. I realize I'm probably dehydrating myself by crying so much, so I pull back as Petal tries to soothe me.

"Shh… it'll be alright Citlali… everything will be alright." I want to scream at her that nothing will be alright, but I know she's trying her best. She has to do this every year, to kids that end up in pieces within the hour of her trying to tell them that they will be fine. It's a horrible job, and I could never imagine having it. But at least I would get to come back alive.

Atticus is sitting at the table alone, gnawing at a piece of toast. I join him, because I need to build up energy for today. Running for your life probably takes a lot out of you. I begin to chew at green grapes, which feel oddly sour.

"Nervous?" Atticus asks me in a shaky voice. I nod at him, taking another tiny bite.

"I'm terrified. I don't want to feel the pain of dying." I choke out. Atticus lets out a deep sigh at this, and slugs an entire glass of orange juice.

"Me neither." he replies in a monotone voice.

The conversation ends at that, because the both of us are too busy nervously shoving our faces with rich food. I eye the clock in front of me, which now reads 15:23.

"Oh my! Is it time to go already? Well, finish your breakfast, you two, then we have to get you ready!" clucks the escort. Tears begin to stream down my face again, but I quickly wipe them away and force myself to hold back my tears. Petal follows us into the elevator, where the trip takes ten seconds and we are suddenly outside. Escort lady kisses us both goodbye, and I stay behind with Petal as Atticus boards the hovercraft.

"Thank you so much for all you've done, Petal. You have no idea how much it helped me." I tell her sadly. She ruffles my hair and we embrace one last time.

"You're going to come home, Citlali. Promise me that." she says longingly. I know that's a promise I could never keep, but I don't want to make her feel like all her efforts have been in vain.

"I will, Petal."

I'm soon being dragged into the hovercraft by two Peacekeepers, and they strap me into a chair next to Atticus. There are other tributes here, too, but not all of them, maybe around a third. Victoria, Iridi, Teila, Gleyn, Incense, Lyndon, and the pair from 12 whose names I can't seem to remember. Incense is whispering to Lyndon, and I suddenly remember that he can't see. That will affect him for sure during the Games. Unfortunately, he is probably a bloodbath victim.

"Give me your arm."

Tributes are having their trackers inserted, so the Gamemakers will be allowed to see where they are. Soon enough my arm is being injected with one, and it blinks through my flesh. I shudder involuntarily as Atticus gets his inserted.

After around ten minutes the hovercraft takes flight, and I catch my last glimpses of the Capitol. The people below look like tiny little ants. Candy-colored ants. I have to suppress giggles at this, but I don't think it's a bad thing to humor myself before I head to my death. We pass the tall mountains surrounding the Capitol, and from there it's just woods and giant bodies of water. I catch a glimpse of a mother deer and her two does. I wish I could be them, out in the wild, free from the Capitol. But that is not my path. Mine was chosen for me. And I wish so badly that I could change it.

The trip takes hours after hours. Incense from 8 has fallen asleep, the others barely staying awake. I try to keep my eyes open myself, but suddenly the windows black out as I see what looked like a castle. Did I just see something I wasn't supposed to? With the castle, the arena may be medieval themed. Or fairy tale. Or it's a normal arena with a random castle. The more and more I think about it, the more the impact of the situation hits me. The captain of the ship announces that we have arrived as we all unbuckle our seatbelts.

"Tributes, please exit the hovercraft in district order. You will be escorted to your respective Launch Rooms in the catacombs."

Victoria leaves the hovercraft first, followed by Iridi, and before I know it I'm stepping off into the tunnel. I enter a hallway with two Peacekeepers holding me, and I wave goodbye to Atticus. He waves back as I'm led down a long, well-lit hallway until we reach a room marked 9F. Which must mean female from 9, me.

The door is opened for me, and I saunter into the launch room, where my stylist Tristan is waiting for me. We hug tightly, way too tightly, because it feels like I can't breathe. Finally, he releases me and retrieves a jacket from the other side of the room. It's a dark purple, and goes with a black t-shirt with a monogram of a sparkly crown on my chest. I also slip on the gray yoga pants and black tennis shoes, and before I step into the tube, Tristan tugs on my shoulder.

"Citlali, wait." he says, his voice echoing. He pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to me.

"Your token. The cord material had to be changed because they thought you could strangle someone with it, but it passed," he explains. I put my locket back on, and I open it to see a picture of my mom and dad. A tiny smile forms on my face, but instantly fades as I hear the dreaded announcement.

"Ten seconds to launch." says the tinny voice over the speaker. Tristan kisses me on the head one last time, and I climb slowly into the glass tube, which shuts the second I step inside. The tube rises and Tristan's face disappears, leaving me in the dark for around ten seconds. I expect to have a chance to see my surroundings when I reach the top, but overwhelming light invaded my vision. Once I rapidly blink a few dozen times, my breath is taken away.

Because I am standing in the throne room of a gigantic castle.

"50...49...48...47...46…"

* * *

 _ **Prosperina Dew, 36, Head Gamemaker**_

* * *

I push open the double doors leading to the sterile Control Room, where both worried and excited Mentors sit in a balcony perfectly positioned in front of the monitor. All of the Gamemakers rise as soon as they noticed my presence, and continue to stand until I make my way over to the Main Control Computer.

"Status?" I ask them harshly.

"Districts 1-10 are ready to go!" shouts my Assistant Head Gamemaker. All of the tributes have hesitantly stepped inside of their respective tubes, save for two districts.

"Send a warning to their Launch Room," I say, annoyed, and a notice gets sent to their tube that they must get inside in the next 10 seconds. District 11's kids oblige, hastily stepping inside the capsule, but the District 12 Female's stylist has to lure her in. Once she's inside, we can finally start.

"Districts 11 and 12 are in their tubes!" someone shouts. The rest are waiting to rise upward with them, and as soon as those four are entrapped, we lift them upward at the same time until they are in full view.

"Alright. Start the countdown." I tell a Gamemaker seated by the holographic model of the arena. We cut to a Capitol crowd back in the City Square, who are chanting and cheering, ready to see some bloodshed. Scattered remarks and conversations begin to emerge in the Control Center as the clock ticks. For many of the tributes, this hour will be their last.

"45...44...43...42...41...40..."

"Hey, do you think I placed that sword close enough to Iridi?" Sharra, one of the Cornucopia designers, asks me.

"He's fast. He'll grab it." I tell her. I pace back and forth on the highest balcony of the room, just ready to get this damn thing started. But something pops into my head.

"Do you have the portraits of the dead ready?" I ask the Gamemaker in charge of that. He gives me a curt nod, and displays the photographs taken of each tribute that will be shown when they die.

"Excellent," I muse, walking back over to the screen, to notice that the countdown has been shaved to 10.

"10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2..."

* * *

 _ **Victoria Rochas, 16**_

* * *

"Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap!" I cry in my tube as I stay submerged in darkness for a few seconds. I get extremely claustrophobic, so I sigh in relief once I reach the surface. I get a glance of my surroundings, but as I try to look to the sky, I find no sun. Instead, I'm greeted with a stone ceiling. What the hell is this, a castle? I can only peek out of the large windows, where I can see some just-as-large trees. In the throne room itself, there are colorful yet withered banners hanging, and various statues of unicorns and dragons adorn the room. There is also two thrones at the highest point of the room, which actually have two crowns sitting on each cushion. It looks like a Victor's crown.

* * *

 ** _Gleyn Bersond, 17_**

* * *

"May the odds," I tell myself, just as I reach the surface, "be ever in my favor."

I notice that we have arisen in a castle. Fit for a king. I examine the tributes, and decide which ones I'm going to go after. I make extended eye contact with the tiny girl from 11, but she just returns a cold stare. Maybe not that one.

"Mom! Dad! Help me!" a little girl sobs. It's the same girl from 6 who was afraid of Calix at the interviews.

"Someone has a death wish!" says Cerys mockingly. It almost looks like she's going to take off the glittering tiara that came with her arena outfit, but decides not to. She could get blown up for that. Instead, she continues to mock the girl. I guess Cerys took her.

I set my sights on a worried looking girl, the girl from 5. A sadistic grin forms on my wind-battered face.

"Perfect," I mumble to myself. She'll be my first prey of the Games. I hope she's thinking her last words.

* * *

 _ **Tyssa Woods, 15**_

* * *

I start shivering, mainly because this giant throne room is absolutely freezing. Maybe it's warmer outside. I'll just go outside, and I'll be fine. I'll be okay. I scan the Cornucopia to find a perfectly pristine knife propped up against a box full of ponchos. That knife is for me. I just have to go and grab it, maybe get the backpack right next to it, and leave. My eyes search for Meric among the crowd, and I spot him on his platform, cool as a cucumber. He told me to try to find him after the bloodbath and that we would escape together. I'm sure he'll escape without a scratch on him. I might end up in pieces.

* * *

 _ **Meric Saucer, 17**_

* * *

Wow. This is actually happening. I'm in the arena right now. I just take a deep breath and try to find Tyssa. She makes eye contact with me, long enough to know that we are still going through with the plan to just grab the supplies closest to us and run. And it will go well. I look around at the arena this year, to see that we seem to be in a castle. I'm sure there is a way out, like through the windows or doors, but it's an open room. You have to be speedy to escape, or else a knife will end up in your back. The long hallways are the only way out on the ground level, too, so the slow ones are at a disadvantage. Luckily, I've always been called a fast runner.

* * *

 _ **Grover Ridley, 18**_

* * *

I keep my head up as I slowly rise from my tube. When I reach the top, I'm out in the open with everyone else. I glance to my left and right to find two random kids, and Oakley nodding at me five pedestals over. Teila is two pedestals away from Oakley, who winks at me. This has to go well. It's going to go well. We would all just run in, grab a backpack, run out. Easy enough. I try to banish images of my dead body lying in the middle of this throne room. The clock now reads 30 seconds. Let's get this damn thing started already. I'm nervous. Is this even going to work at all?

* * *

 _ **Quincy Aubergine, 12**_

* * *

"I'll be okay, I'll be okay," I tell myself as the timer gets smaller and smaller. The freaking Hunger Games are going to start in 28 seconds. I'm briefly considering just jumping off and ending it all, but I told everyone I was gonna make it home. And I intend to. Luckily, I'm at the edge of the semi-circle formation of the pedestals, and the Careers are more towards the center. I can just grab the generously large backpack and hope that there is a weapon in there. Because I am not going into the mouth to get one, that would be digging my own grave. Next to me is a quivering little girl who is actually one year my senior. She almost, almost falls off, but luckily regains her balance. But the same couldn't be said for one boy.

"Lyndon, no!" a girl cries out. I turn my head to see the blind boy losing his balance and tumbling off his platform.

 _BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

Several explosions ring around him, marking the first death of the 110th Games, before they even began. Now I'm terrified. I begin to quiver, but I physically jump when I hear the eight words I have been dreading ever since my name was called back in 11.

"Ladies and gentleman, let the 110th Hunger Games begin!"

* * *

 _ **Eulogy- 24th: Lyndon Orange, District 8 Male, 16, stepped off platform early**_

* * *

 **He didn't really "step off' Prosperina, he just fell. Belle did warn him about this at some point, but unfortunately, a mix of fear and his blindness is what made him fall. Admittedly, he is better off dying this way than blindly running into a Career. I'm sorry, GalacticCoach, for your loss. He was fun to write. I haven't seen you review on this story. Are you still reading?**

 _ **...**_

 **Alliances: Careers- Iridi, Victoria, Calix, Cerys, Gleyn, "Tiger", "Oakley", "Grover"**

 **The Anti-Careers- Teila, Grover, Oakley**

 **Meric and Tyssa**

 **Atticus and Citlali**

 **Tributes remaining: 23**

* * *

 **Oh, no! The bloodbath is next chapter! Sorry it's so short but this WAS going to be part of the bloodbath but got separated because, again, suspense. Never fear, children, because if your tribute dies, they will receive a nice little eulogy like Lyndon did here :). Oh, and I set up a NEW poll, saying who you want to live. You can vote up to six times (I just realized I put Lyndon on there. Please don't vote for him, he isn't coming back to life XD) This may or may not influence the final decision. I was gonna post this tomorrow but I want plenty of time for the votes to come in. I'll see you all on Friday... good luck to all the tributes.**

 **-Maia**


	16. Let The Games Begin!

_**Cerys Asana, 18, District 2 Female**_

* * *

 _Gong!_

I leap off of my platform and sprint as fast as my body will let me. A beautiful sword comes into my sight, and I scoop it up, wrapping my numb fingers around the sleek handle.

Already kids are trying to escape the castle. The girl from 10 is climbing up the stairs to the second floor, where Gleyn is on the pursuit. Geyn lifts is trident and disappears, still chasing the girl. I know that he hit his mark when she screams loudly, and Gleyn is headed back down holding a bloody trident.

The girl from District 6 has collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. Perfect. I cleanly decapitate her with one sweep, ending her pitiful life. My blade is already stained with blood, in contrast to Victoria, who is still chasing around the boy from 12. She leaps onto him and buries a throwing knife into his temple.

No cannons are sounding, not until later, just screams and pleads and death rattles. I notice Oakley swiping up an axe and a backpack. Grover's doing the same. And so is Teila. What the actual hell?

"Hey, what are you guys-" I begin, but a burning pain explodes through my side as I try to speak. My shirt begins to soak with my blood. I am completely and totally confused until I turn around my head and see the piercing eyes of the boy from 9. He pulls his dagger from my body, running off with his district partner. I'm limping back to the Horn, screeching and holding my bloody side.

Victoria looks horrified as soon as she sees me. She was currently about to kill the girl from 8 but she got away with a few scratches.

"Cerys! What happened?" she asks, concerned. I'm about to tell her that Grover, Oakley and Teila are gone, but I collapse on the ground, blood pooling around me.

"Guys! Cerys is hurt! We have to get her help!" Victoria yelps. I know they want to help me but I'm too far gone. My last sight is Victoria staring down at me, holding my hand, telling me that I'll be alright. Well, that was a lie.

* * *

 _ **Tyssa Woods, 15, District 5 Female**_

* * *

I've been trying to find Meric, so I hide behind the Cornucopia, clutching a small bag and a water bottle. Finally, I spot his red hair in the chaos, and I see that he is tussling with the boy from 3 for a bag. I run up and kick the boy in the tailbone. I'm almost considering picking up the gleaming dagger next to him and killing the boy, but no. I'm better than that.

"Meric! Come on, let's go!" I cry at Meric. He nods at me and prepares to get up, but someone grabs him by the hair. It's the boy from 2.

"Let him go!" I scream at him. Meric is now in a chokehold, struggling in the boy's arms. His face is beginning to lose more and more color.

"Not until you beg, missy." he retorts. In one swift motion, the boy from 2 lifts up his shiny knife, placing up to Meric's throat and pushing it in. But before the blade punctures, he mouths one word that I almost immediately recognized.

 _Go._

Tears begin to well in my eyes, blurring my vision. I just pray for Turmeric in my head while running for my life out of this bloody castle. I turn a corner to reach a hallway with huge, gilded double doors. I push them open, and I'm met with bright sunlight and a warm breeze. So it was warmer outside. There are various locations a tribute could explore in this arena. Castles, manors, a city. We rose up in a castle. The same castle Meric is still in.

I'm not daring to look back and see what happened to him. He's probably dead by now. I left, alive, while some people literally never saw the light of day.

 _Stop it, Tyssa. You escaped. You should be grateful,_ I tell myself as I sprint my way to what looks like a red-brick manor devoured by ivy. Fountains are in the front, but I'm not trusting anything given to me by the Gamemakers. Not yet. But as I picture Turmeric's last words, a thought comes. Something that will keep me going until my cannon fires.

I will be grateful. I will actually get to see the faces of the dead tonight, without my own face being up there. I just became much more confident in the fact that I'm going to make it far.

* * *

 ** _Galvan Clearcreek, 18, District 11 Male_**

* * *

I shield my eyes as I witness the girl from 12 get her arms sliced clean off. Her wretched sobs fill the castle. I feel like I've seen enough.

I turn to exit this hellhole, when I see Quincy escaping unharmed. Maybe I can go with her and keep her safe. I jog my way over to Quincy, who is prepared to run for the hills.

"What are you doing?" she asks me, hostile.

"We're district partners, Quincy. We should stick together." I reply, opening the large door leading to the outside. As soon as we make it out, rumbling is heard. I whip my head to see the castle we just walked out of sink into the ground, creating a thunderous earthquake that rattles even the Careers. The castle dissolves, seeping into the grass. Did I just witness a castle fall into the ground?

Everyone still in the center is unharmed. The Cornucopia is intact. But this intervention allowed several tributes to escape, and the Careers fazed. They stood in the open pasture, stunned, while the remaining two tributes still in that area run for their lives, including the boy from 10 and the boy from 3. I notice the girl from 3 standing at the Cornucopia with the Careers. Unfortunately, she's as good as dead. I cover my ears again when I hear her high-pitched scream.

Quincy is pretty far ahead. I guess she's running on adrenaline. I try my best to keep up with her until we reach a forest.

"Can we stop here?" I ask her. She turns to me, a sad look on her face.

"Look, Galvan," she mumbles, "you got away safely. Maybe you should leave while you can."

I rub the back of my neck, a little disheartened. "Why? I'm just worried that you won't make it on your-"

"I am perfectly capable of surviving on my own, Galvan Clearcreek!" she shouts, but clasps her mouth in regret.

"I have to leave," she says shakily, "I don't want anyone to find me."

Quincy turns on her heel, preparing to head off into the woods, alone.

"Don't die," Quincy says dryly before disappearing into the branches. I decide not to go after her. That girl is her own responsibility now. And there's nothing I can do for her.

* * *

 _ **Teila Kaley, 17, District 4 Female**_

* * *

Chaos is everywhere. I nearly tripped on the bloodied corpse of the boy from 5. And only a few moments ago, I witnessed my friend Cerys get killed in front of my eyes. I'm already beginning to fall apart, but I pull myself together long enough so that I can at least get out of here. We have to leave before the Careers see us. Luckily, they are preoccupied with killing so they haven't noticed our escape.

Grover and Oakley are already holding axes. What weapon should I get? I wanted to get a spear but they are way too deep into the Cornucopia. Instead, I just grab a relatively heavy-looking backpack and a dagger leaning against the Horn. We almost got caught a few moments ago, before Cerys got killed.

My heart started to beat at a million miles per hours when Cerys came up to us. She noticed the backpacks in our hands.

"Hey. What are you guys-" she tried to say but the tip of a knife protruded through her stomach before she finished the statement. She began to hyperventilate and rushed back to the center, leaving behind a trail of blood. That gave us the chance to sneak off without anyone noticing.

This castle is huge, yes, but there is no way in hell that we are staying here.

"There's an open door over there, guys. Come on!" Grover says in a quiet voice so the Careers don't hear us. I notice the light coming from the door he pointed to, and immediately make a beeline towards it. I can already hear kids dying, so I'm in a hurry to get out of here.

Oakley opens to door for me, and I eagerly step out of the castle. Outside, the sun is shining, with puffy clouds passing through the clear blue sky. It's also pretty warm out here. I was worried sick the arena would be a frozen tundra.

"Where do we go?" Oakley asks. I look around the area just to find more castles, a park, streets. But a deep cavern at the top of a hill in the east catches my eye.

"Let's go to that cave," I say breathlessly, pointing in the general direction of it. Oakley and Grover spot it, beginning to jog towards it. We have a lot of running to do. I can't wait until I can relax a little and get some sleep. After all, it might be the last time I get some rest in my life.

* * *

 _ **Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

I tried to keep the tears at bay, but I accidentally glanced at the empty hole where Lyndon once stood. That caused the tears to stream down my pale face in rivers, and my stomach to ball up in knots.

 _No, Incy, get the backpack. Get it and run!_

I spot a purple backpack in front of me. I could grab it. I could grab it and run and be safe from this hell. That's what I'm going to do, actually. So I don't have to die. Dying probably hurts.

As my fingers grip the straps of my pack, a knife comes hurling at me, clipping my ear. I stop for a second and try to staunch the blood flow, but the girl from 1 is coming after me. Oh, crap. I'm going to die.

She's inches away from me, grinning like a madman. But a scream pierces the air, one that must have been familiar with her. Because she's turning around to see that the girl from District 2 is on the ground in a pool of blood.

"Guys! Cerys is hurt! We have to get her help!" she cries. I just backpedal away from the scene, with my backpack slung over my shoulder. There are numerous doors, but only a few are open. Hallways also lead into the room but the last thing I want to do is get stuck in this castle. I just run outside, greeted with warm sunlight. The place that looks the most desirable to me right now is the hill with its clear, crisp waterfalls and cottages. There are probably a lot of plants there for me to eat.

I take a shortcut to there through some trees so I'm not seen. But my heart skips a beat when I see someone else running through the castle-dotted plain. There are three of them, actually. A boy with red hair leads the pack. I can't quite distinguish them, but I don't want to confront anyone. I don't even have a weapon.

But if I just get to the hills, I'll be okay. No one will come after me. My mind begins to spin in circles as the waterfall gets closer and closer. Already my side has begun to hurt. But I can't stop now. I don't even dare to look and see if anyone is trailing me. I'll do that when I work up the courage. Which right now, I am lacking.

* * *

 _ **Danylo Sepia, 17, District 3 Male**_

* * *

As soon as that giant castle literally melted into the ground, I was already outside. But I can't say the same for Gratiana.

She was petrified in fear. She had never seen something like this before. I'm sure she was certain that she was going to die, but it left her at the Cornucopia, alone, with the Careers. I feel like an awful person for doing this, but I decide to run. It's all I can do. If I stay, I'll end up in pieces.

"Iridi, would you like the honors?" I head someone say over my heavy breathing and footsteps. For a moment, there's just silence. The silence is broken by the sound of Gratiana's scream in the air, and her body collapsing to the ground. More silence.

I have nothing. No supplies, no weapons, not a crumb of food either. I need something, or else I'll be dead in the next few days.

But I notice the boy from 10 running ahead of me, with a backpack over his shoulder. There has to be food in there. I don't think he would be willing to share, so I'll have to get it... some other way. He begins to slow down, crouching to tie his shoe. I stay as still as a statue. When he finishes, he gets back up and heads for the most dense part of the arena, a good hiding place for someone looking to avoid contact with other tributes.

As he walks into the city dotted with colorful apartment buildings and narrow streets, I make sure to step at the same time he does so he doesn't notice my presence.

* * *

 _ **Iridi Lotu, 17, District 1 Male**_

* * *

Even when I got to kill that wimpy girl from 3, that didn't take my mind off that fact that one of our strongest is dead. And Grover, Oakley, and Tiger are nowhere to be seen. Our Career pack has been shaved down to a measly 4. Our Pack was huge before, and we were the crowd favorites. Now, I can bet that wherever those losers are, they're laughing at us as they are showered in sponsor gifts and attention.

As we order the supplies and let the hovercraft pick up the bodies, there's no laughing or joking. We all didn't say a word. I guess I could say that we were mourning Cerys' death and were angry with those three for deserting.

"Guys, we aren't going to get anything done by being sad," I tell them. "We'll wait until nighttime to hunt, and when we do, the first people on our list are our troops who went A.W.O.L." Everyone perks up at this, and Calix even begins to laugh.

"Sounds good to me. I think we should make their deaths slow, don't you?" he asks me, in a sadistic tone. I nod at him in response, and we begin to assemble our backpacks as the hovercraft picks up the very last body, the girl from 10.

"Do you guys want to eat before we go?" Victoria, the only remaining female Career, asks us.

"Sure," I respond, "What's on the menu?"

Victoria begins to dig through various crates until she finds half a dozen packs of beef jerky. We're all tossed a pack, and I tear it open eagerly and begin stuffing the chewy pieces in my mouth. I think this is going to go okay. We'll find the deserters, kill them all, and then the real fun begins. I'm still trying to figure out how to get Calix out of the picture. Maybe a nice knife to the throat while he's counting sheep.

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

* * *

Walking was difficult before, but now, Atticus had to carry me. I found myself getting weaker and weaker, occasionally feeling like fainting at times.

"Don't worry, Citlali, we're almost there. Just hang on for a little while longer." Atticus said reassuringly. The gash on my side wasn't that deep, but it drew a lot of blood. I forgot who to even thank for the wound, it all just happened so quick.

"Are we there yet?" I ask Atticus tiredly. He says that we'll be there in a few minutes. Every time I try to go to sleep, I get my hand squeezed. I don't know why Atticus wants me to stay awake. Is he afraid that I'm going to die?

"Okay, we're here," he says, after climbing up an incredibly steep hill and with me on his back. Luckily, years of malnourishment have made me light as a feather. He pushes open the door to what looks like some kind of hut, and as soon as we'e inside, I'm plopped down onto a bed. It's pretty hard to even keep my eyes open now.

"Here, drink water," Atticus instructs, handing me the only water bottle from his pack. I take small and hesitant sips, setting the bottle back on the floor. He hands me a cracker, which I have to force myself to chew and swallow, but it does make me feel better. So much better that I can even sit up on my own.

"I found some gauze in the cabinets," he says excitedly. He takes the roll of bandages and slowly wraps them around my side. This staunches the blood but stains the white cloth red. I know I'm going to need some healing, but maybe a few days of rest will make me feel better.

I've already regained enough energy so I can stand up. I take a book off of the shelf and begin to thumb through the pages, trying to keep myself entertained. Atticus is outside, trying to climb a tree to pick its red fruits. He plucks one off of the tree, hopping down and bringing the egg-shaped fruit inside.

"Is that safe?" I ask, eyeing the suspicious food.

"Yeah, I remember seeing this at the edible plants station," he replies. Atticus still sees that I am uneasy so he suggests that we can eat it in a few days when it has ripened. Maybe I can live out my last few days in comfort, in the company of someone from home. That's a lot better than I ever could have hoped for.

* * *

 _ **Styx Gasket, 18, District 6 Male**_

* * *

I knew Kyva wasn't going to make it. She didn't stand a chance. I think I could consider myself pretty lucky that I got away from the bloodbath without a scrape on me. And with this backpack, too? Sure, it's pretty small, but it's way better than nothing.

I stole a lot in my past. I stole parts from the factory that I sold to make a quick buck. I'm pretty good at stealing and not getting caught. I spot three kids settling in a deep cavern at the top of the hill that I am headed towards. I've never received climbing lessons, so I'm not surprised when I painfully twist my wrist trying to climb past a rocky part of the hill. I wince at my injury but I can't stop now. Soon I reach my destination. I'm about to steal the axe just laying at the lip of the cave, but I see a hand grab it.

"Hey! Did you see somebody?" a voice asks. The girl from 4 pokes her head out, looking around and luckily not seeing me hiding behind a prickly bush. I can already feel the cuts from the sharp branches getting inflamed but I still keep my body as still as I can, not even daring to breathe.

"Huh. I could swear a heard someone." the girl says.

"Maybe it just the wind." the boy says.

They all crack up at this, but now that they almost spotted me, I know I can't possibly steal or even get to higher ground without them noticing me. So, I'm going to have to behind inside this bush, getting cut by the spiky branches, and painstakingly watch the sun set until these idiots finally decide to go to sleep. And one might still be on guard. I decide to leave while the anthem is playing. They won't hear me leave through the blaring music and the faces of the dead.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies:**_

* * *

 _ **23rd: Astelle Landers, District 10 Female, killed by Gleyn**_

 **I really liked you, Stel. You were cool. But unfortunately, bloodbath count needed to be higher, and you didn't make the cut. Partly the reason she's dead is that she's my own tribute, too.**

* * *

 _ **22nd- Kyva Ruun, District 6 Female, killed by Cerys**_

 **I think we all saw this coming. She had bloodbath written all over her from the start. Kyva barely even knew what the Games were. I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Ruun, that you couldn't protect her forever. Thank you, Illuminating Spirit, for Kyva. She was a fun one to write.**

* * *

 _ **21st- Rik Sarafian, District 12 Male, killed by Victoria**_

 **Sorry, Rik, but you just weren't very strong. And your low score didn't help you, either. Running into the Horn probably wasn't a good idea. Thank you, heavydirtysoul, for Rik, and please know that you are more than welcome to submit to my next SYOT.**

* * *

 _ **20th- Cerys Asana, District 2 Female, killed by Atticus**_

 **What?! She's a Career! How did she die so early? Well, Cerys, Atticus has been building up a lot of rage for today and unfortunately you were the victim. Thank you, Avia, for Cerys. She will be missed. :(**

* * *

 ** _19th- Turmeric Saucer, District 5 Male, killed by Calix_**

 **I felt bad about this one. From the beginning I felt like I completely botched his character. I revised his Reaping to fit his submitter's expectations but I still felt like I didn't do a good job with Meric. He may have made it farther if I had felt more confident with him. I'm sorry, Platrium, and I will try to handle your character better in my next SYOT.**

* * *

 _ **18th- Lizereth Onne, District 12 Female, killed by Calix**_

 **Poor Liz. She really thought she was coming back to Martin. Unfortunately, Liz, you were doomed from the start. But I still loved you! You were so adorable and I would have loved to have seen you explore the arena! But sadly, life didn't work out that way. Thank you, Tracelynn, for Liz. I loved her.**

* * *

 ** _17th- Gratiana Brindle, District 3 Female, killed by Iridi_**

 **Oh, Gratiana. Luck was not on your side. I'm hope you knew that Danylo got away before you were killed. I liked writing both you and your partner make it out alive, but Danylo did get more votes than you. Thank you, Winter, for Tiana. She's your first to go, but at least you still have Quincy and Dan!**

* * *

 ** _Tributes Remaining:_**

Victoria

Iridi

Calix

Danylo

Tiger

Gleyn

Tyssa

Styx

Oakley

Grover

Incy

Atticus

Citlali

Kean

Quincy

Galvan

* * *

 **Alliances: Careers (Vicky, Iridi, Calix, Gleyn)**

 **Triple Entente Anti-Careers (Grover, Oakley, Tiger)**

 **Citlali and Atticus**

* * *

 **... so, that's the bloodbath. Sorry it was a day late! I had a lot going on this week and I didn't want this to feel rushed. I am sorry if your tribute did not make it, it's nothing personal, it just progresses the story. Again, this is only the bloodbath. Next time we'll see the tributes settling in for their first night in the arena. Hope you enjoyed the slaughter, and I'll see you next time!**

 **-Maia**


	17. The First Night

**This chapter, we get to see how the tributes will fare on their first night in the arena. At the end, some exciting details of our next SYOT! Enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **Kean Avrett, 18, District 10 Male**_

* * *

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

I'm honestly scared to death of running into a tribute. I would have to kill them, of course, but that would make me into a murderer. And there's a chance I would die as well. Well, this city is a ghost town, I'll be completely safe here.

The sun is beginning to set, emitting a golden glow across the entire arena. As I walk the streets of the empty city, deciding in which house to take refuge in, I find that it is becoming harder and harder to see. I just stumble inside a large apartment complex labeled "Pine Tree Heights". I crack open the boarded up door, shuddering when I hear the sound of rats scurrying across the floor. If it comes to it, they may end up being my breakfast. I carefully walk up the creaky stairs into a room that leads to a hallway. I open a door labeled "2-B", finding a mostly intact room with furniture and a TV. I click it on, and surprisingly, it works. But it only shows static and a "no signal" message. Next to the TV I find a plastic case. Curiously, I click it open, finding a disc inside. I have to squint to see, but there is writing on the disc.

 _A complete cut of the 109th Hunger Games. With love, Prosperina Dew._

Disgusted, I drop the disc to the floor, causing it to shatter. The TV mysteriously turns off as soon as the disc breaks. Spooked, I head to a balcony facing the city. As soon as I settle onto the balcony, a brassy sound emits. Is another castle going to melt?

No, it's just the faces of the dead. I look up at the Capitol logo to see who died. The girl from 2. The girl from 3. The boy from 5. The girl from 6. The boy from 8. Astelle. Both from 12. As the last face disappears from the sky, I begin to mourn my late partner. But she was going to die anyway.

Creak!

I whip my head around to try to find the source of that sound, but I find nothing. Strange.

Creeak!

Worried, I rise and inspect the apartment, searching every room in this tiny establishment. But when I return to my camp, I find that my backpack has been picked through because the flap is still open, when I had closed it before. Someone stole from me.

They only seemed to have time to take my bag of dried fruit and some matches. I still have my knife and beef jerky, and a small bottle of water. Whatever. Whoever took my stuff seems to be gone now.

"Hey, Vick, let's search here. Those twits are probably hiding in one of these buildings!" a loud voice says.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Those voices sound like Careers. Careers are headed here. Oh, shit.

"Oh, look! I found one!" another voice announces.

No. They can't be talking about me. I'm hiding in this laundry basket, they can't see me from out there.

"Get him, before he gets away!"

I hear heavy footsteps, laughs, teasing, and finally, a loud scream. They must have found someone. Maybe they'll go away.

 _Boom!_

The voices keep talking.

"Do you guys want to head back to camp and figure out where to hunt in the morning?"

Luckily, their footsteps are getting quieter and quieter until I can barely hear them at all. I'm safe for now.

* * *

 _ **Victoria Rochas, 16, District 1 Female**_

* * *

When I pulled my sword from the minute boy from 3, I began to feel less and less human. I'm literally killing people just to progress myself further. Is this what I have come to?

"Do you guys want to head back to camp and figure out where to hunt in the morning?" Iridi asks. We all just nod, walking back in a cluster to what is going to be our home for the next few days.

Calix is in front of me. He's off guard. My sword is in my hand. I could do it now.

 _No, you idiot! The others will kill you if you do that!_

But I would be killing the strongest competitor. Iridi and Gleyn probably want to do the same, they just don't have the guts. I could end it all now.

No.

I won't. I should at least wait. I feel so alienated, being the only girl Career. I don't know why that's bothering me so much, I just feel like I don't belong.

Maybe I can escape from all this. Maybe I could make it on my own. I have the skill, the brains, and the brawn. I could totally do this. But not now. Later. When the time comes.

We arrived at camp at what I'm guessing is around 10:00 P.M. and I'm exhausted. I migrate to my tent as soon as we get there, snuggling into my thick sleeping bag and snacking on energy bars.

Through my tent, I can see someone lighting a fire. The boys push crates over and begin chatting and joking, probably trying to lighten their spirits. They had just got a kill, and tomorrow, they're going to find the 4 girl and Sevens and kill them. They seem so happy about all this, they seem to excited to kill. I bet they can't wait to kill each other.

I seriously can't do this.

Why am I doubting myself so early on? I chose to be in the Hunger Games, and now I'm in them. I'm not getting out unless I'm the last tribute standing. And I plan to be. But maybe when I'm a little more confident with myself.

* * *

 _ **Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female**_

* * *

Sitting at the top of a tree for hours on end wears you out. My tailbone is beginning to hurt like crazy, and I find it very hard to get comfortable in a rock hard tree. I take the extra T-shirt from my pack and ball it up, creating a sort of makeshift cushion. This helps a little.

I heard a cannon earlier. Maybe it was Galvan. Maybe I don't have to worry about my scary district partner who scored a 9. If he's dead, that's one less weight off my shoulder. Speaking of shoulders, a strange object has just landed on it, startling me and nearly knocking me out of my tree.

It's a sponsor gift.

I rip the metal box open and find a giant turkey leg, a bottle filled with a blue liquid, and a note.

 _Just in case. -Autumn L._

Just in case? What the hell does she mean? I set the turkey leg aside and inspect the liquid she gave me. I take a tentative sip and almost immediately spit the strange concoction out. It's alcohol.

What could I possibly do with this? Is it supposed to be a weapon? Maybe I could break the glass and use the shards to stab people. But part of me feels like that isn't what it's for. She probably would have sent me an empty bottle if it was for that.

I just stow the liquor away in my backpack, opening the metal box containing my dinner and begin to eat tiny shreds of the turkey. I want this thing to last as long as possible. I don't really have any other food besides some assorted nuts. Even then, it's a very small bag.

After eating my tiny supper, I place my numb hands onto my chest and stare into the sky. This is real. I'm actually in the Hunger Games. This felt like some sort of disjointed dream, and as much as I would love for it to be, this is all too real. There is a likely chance that I'm going to die.

 _Howl…_

I jump out of my skin when I hear that animalistic noise. It's probably mutts. Passive or hostile, I have no idea, and I do not want to find out. I'll go exploring tomorrow, but for now, I'm just going to stay in my uncomfortable old tree, praying that I don't fall out of the tree in my sleep. Although this thick rope I wrapped around my waist and the tree decreases my chances of falling, it also kind of makes me feel like a prisoner. Well, I am a prisoner. A prisoner of these Games. All of us are.

* * *

 ** _Grover Ridley, 17, District 7 Male_**

* * *

Oakley has started to hyperventilate and sweat. She said that she's terrified of being found by the Careers. Both Tiger and I have tried to calm her, we've tried to tell her that there's no way they'll find us. She's still on the verge of breaking down and crying.

"Grover scored an 11, Oaks! He's really, really skilled! He'll kill those Careers before you can say 'ow'." Tiger assures. This causes her to relax slightly and stop shaking. Oakley turns away and crawls in the back of the cave and drapes a blanket over her head, groaning.

"I'm going to sleep," she mumbles through her curled-up blanket. So now it's just me and Tiger.

"Are you worried?" Tiger says a tense whisper. I looks downward, my eyes affixed to my plasticy running shoes.

"Yeah. We'll get our asses kicked if they do find us," I say in a voice quiet enough so that Oakley doesn't hear. That statement makes me sad. We're basically living in fear, and the moment those Careers find us, our faces will shine in the sky while they look up at us with a devilish smile on their face.

"Do you want to move our location tomorrow? It'll be better if we're not sitting on our butts for too long," I suggest to her while sipping out of a fruit cup. She slowly nods, proceeding to sharpen Oakley's axe on a piece of rock.

The atmosphere here is already too glum. If we're going to survive, we need to be in good spirits.

"Hey guys, look!" I say to them, crushing the berry in my hand and smearing the juice all over my face to look like bloodied cuts.

"I'm Calix! Look at me! Got any kids I can decapitate?" I say goofily, while sticking my tongue out. This earns a hearty chuckle from Tiger and a teeny giggle from Oakley, who is no longer hiding in her blanket.

My impersonation of him was pretty spot-on, actually. All that boy thinks about is killing and death. I try to banish any thoughts of him from my mind to prevent nightmares as I drift off to sleep.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 _ **16th- Danylo Sepia, District 3 Male- killed by Victoria, Night 1**_

 **I felt so bad about killing off Gratiana's partner hours after she died. Sadly, he just got caught in the Career's nightly hunt. I'm sorry, Winter, that your other kiddo from 3 has died. Let's hope Quincy does really well!**

* * *

 **Tributes remaining:**

Victoria

Iridi

Calix

Tiger

Gleyn

Tyssa

Styx

Oakley

Grover

Incy

Citlali

Atticus

Kean

Quincy

Galvan

* * *

 **Alliances: Careers (Iridi, Vick, Calix, Gleyn)**

 **Triple Entente (Grover, Oakley, Tiger)**

 **Dynamic Duo (Citlali and Atticus)**

* * *

 **So, this was the tributes' first night in the arena! And a death, too! There is no guarantee that there will be a death every single day, so don't get too excited. :) Also, I have an announcement! I am opening submissions for my next SYOT, SNOFS (School's Not Out For the Summer). I've already gotten some submissions, which is great! But if you want a spot, submit! It isn't first come first serve, I'll choose who I like best. And you may submit up to four. I will accept all, some, or none depending on how full it is. Anyway, next time, we'll see how the tribute's first morning in the arena is going to go. Stay tuned!**

 **-Ruby**


	18. Stirring the Pot

_**Galvan Clearcreek, 17, District 11 Male**_

* * *

My eyes burst open, abruptly ending my forced, dreamless sleep. I was literally lying under the stars last night since I had no real form of shelter. I could go into the city or the castles, yes, but that's a death sentence if I'm found, with no place to run to. Being cornered in a room is the last way I want to die. Speaking of which, if I were found in these woods, dodging and evading all of these trees would get incredibly difficult. But hopefully the people chasing me would just smack into the trunks and I'll be on my way.

As I sit in this pile of leaves, by myself, with only a small amount of supplies, I begin to regret doing this in the first place. There's probably some way I could have come up with the money. Or is there? I volunteered because I have no other options, and if I win this, it will all be worth it. My family will be able to live in luxury for the rest of our lives. I look up at the clear sky, the sun shining in this hellish arena.

As I go to reach for some food, I realize I have literally none. Save for a few crumbs from my protein bar. I lap those up from the wrapper but it does anything but fill me up. I suppose I haven't eaten anything substantial since I was in the Capitol. But maybe I won't have to have a hollow stomach for much longer, because I see a stream in the far distance. Maybe there's fish there. I can eat the fish, I'm sure eating them raw will be fine. I've had worse.

The stream is pretty far away, so I just end up taking a nice, leisurely stroll to get there. The Cornucopia isn't in sight, which is where the Careers are usually camped. I heard a cannon a few minutes after the faces disappeared from the sky, it was probably because of the Careers. I hope those murderous bastards get killed by a Mutt or something so the rest of us can die a peaceful, private death. That's probably more than what a tribute can ever hope for in the arena, anyway.

Being lost in my thoughts causes me to stumble into the stream I was headed to. Luckily, only my pants got wet. I shiver from the ice-cold temperatures of the water, but once I actually got used to it, I just squat in the water to catch my food. The stream water itself is crystal-clear, and several tiny fish swim by. But once I spot a large, fatty, and appetizing catch, I throw my dagger into the water. I've hit my mark.

The fish struggles at the tip of the blade, flopping and flopping until it finally goes still.

"Boom," I mock, as if the fish were a tribute. I extract the dagger from its body, wiping its blood on my shirt. I begin to pluck out the fish's tiny bones so I don't choke on them. Finally, after around a half an hour, the fish is ready to eat. As I go to take the first bite, I hear whooping and cheering.

"And then I spilled the sauce all over his shirt! It was priceless!" says a very loud voice. Oh, no.

If those Careers are trying to be sneaky, they're failing. I could hear them from a mile away, and they aren't even in my sight. But their voices are sounding closer and closer. Stuffing my fish in my pack, I scramble to my feet and begin to sprint away. I hesitantly peek behind me to see if they are trailing me.

"I see someone!" a girl voice says. My heart begins to beat out of my chest.

"It's Mr. I-Scored-A-Nine! Don't let him get away!" A boy begins to chase me, by the number on his shoulder, it's the boy from 4.

He throws his trident with all his might at my body, but I barely dodge it. It sinks into a tree, and it looks like the Careers have stopped running.

"Whatever. We said we would kill the Sevens first, anyway. We'll find him again," a boy says, not the same boy who was chasing me.

"Yeah, but-" says the girl voice.

"We'll get him after, Victoria!" the boy shouts at her. They seem to talk some more but their voices are becoming more and more muffled, thankfully. That was way too close for comfort.

* * *

 _ **Atticus Faux, 16, District 9 Male**_

* * *

Citlali is knocked out from some of the medicine I gave her, leaving me to guard her. She is sprawled out on the bed, a bottle of water clutched in her bony fingers. She's just sitting here, vulnerable. If Careers were to storm our little hut, after they killed me, Citlali would join me moments later. I could just end her pain now. She could die peacefully and alone.

But that would make me nothing more than a backstabbing killer. And Citlali mentioned back in the Capitol about her lonely days in the orphanage. The same orphanage my siblings are at. If I killed one of their own kids, my brother and sisters would be in the streets. Why am I assuming I'll be dead? Have these Games made me into a pessimist?

Suddenly, I hear soft beeping outside the house. Afraid, I creep up to the entrance of the house and cautiously open the creaky wooden door, to find that it's just a sponsor gift. But a strangely big one. Long, too, like an instrument case.

I find the note attached, which indicates that the gift is for Citlali. Do I open it now? Sure, why not.

I crack open the silver box, revealing a shiny, metallic spear. This must have cost a fortune, and I can only understand why they sent it so early in the Games, because I heard prices of items skyrocket later in the Games.

Holding the spear gingerly, I head back inside, to find that Citlali is now awake, strangely enough.

"Where did you get that?" she asks shakily.

"Just sent," I reply coolly, in an attempt to calm her down. "For you, I think."

"For me?" She grabs the spear from my hands and inspects it, grinning as she rubs her cheeks against the cold metal.

"We can share it if you want," she tells me, noticing my flimsy dagger in my belt. I nod eagerly at her, settling back down in my rocking chair, whereas Citlali is already playing with the weapon. I never knew she had the strength to slice the head off of a coat rack.

"So, what are we gonna do today?" she asks, her eyes wide. "We just got a spear, so we can go explore and ditch this dusty shack!" Citlali seems so eager to go on an adventure, but this is a pretty cozy hiding spot.

"Hang on, Citlali," I warn her, "we can still get knifed because there are a lot of threats out there. Can we wait until after the faces to go out?" She deflates, obviously wanting to leave, but complies and sits back down.

"Sure," she says flatly. I offer her a smile, turning to cut up the fruit I picked yesterday. But I stop dead in my tracks as I hear a low growl.

 _Grrrrrr…._

Citlali sprints outside, to find a giant dog.

"What the-" she begins but the dog charges at her. She swipes her new spear at its body, tearing its throat to shreds. It evaporates but is followed by yet another dog. This time, it is wearing a jeweled collar.

"Atticus, can we go now?" Citlali breathlessly asks.

"Uh, yeah. They seem to want us to leave." We both roll down the steep hill, tumbling and tumbling until we reach the bottom. It's just plains for miles, making it incredibly difficult to hide anywhere.

"Where do we go?" I cry. Citlali remains silent, continuing to run until we reach a large city-like structure.

"Hey, let's go into that giant city," I suggest. Citlali gives me a sideways look.

"Because there _can't_ be anyone hiding there!" she spits out sarcastically.

"Well, do you wanna be puppy food?!" I shout at her as we continue to run. As soon as we reach a street, the dogs smack into a seemingly invisible wall. They struggle and try to make it through, eventually giving up and walking back to places unknown.

We hesitantly venture into the ghost town, pretty much preparing for someone to jump out and slit our throats. My body is already tired from how tense it is.

* * *

 _ **Tyssa Woods, 15, District 5 Female**_

* * *

"Ow!" I cry out, in pain. The headache medication I took in the Capitol helped, but I'm not in the Capitol anymore. My skull throbs endlessly, reducing me to a curled-up ball. They have never been this bad before. Now it feels like someone is setting my brain on fire. I can barely think. I can barely hear either. Even when I try to fully open my eyes, the edges of my vision grow dark. It makes me panic whenever they get so bad that my field of vision is reduced. Aside from my crippling headaches, eye-crossing boredom is all my last few days alive have offered me.

To keep myself busy, I begin to imagine stories in my head. The only story I'm able to come up with is the story of how Tyssa Woods goes home. She hides for the entire Games. The only other tribute left dies of starvation. That hovercraft smashes through the brick ceiling of my manor and retrieves me. I'm safe. Forever.

But that isn't going to happen. I'm becoming a side character in my own story. There are probably other tributes doing more interesting stuff, like killing, making alliances, getting sponsor gifts. I'm in a ball on a hardwood floor, in a puddle of tears. I'll fade from the public eye, and my end will be at the hands of Mutts. I can't just stay here any longer.

Meric's watching over me right now. He would be very disappointed if he found out that his own district partner is wallowing in her own sorrow instead of fighting like she should. My play cast is probably wondering why I'm seemingly not bothering to become a stronger person. My entire district is counting on me. Finch is, Blaze is, even our insane escort would go nuts if I came back.

I struggle to my feet, my legs starting to feel like jelly. My entire body is aching as well as my head. I've eaten almost all the food in my backpack and drunk all the water. My supplies will probably run out by tonight.

"Just gotta be more resourceful, Tyssa, is all," I whisper to myself as birds chirp outside. Birds. They have no idea that they are in Hell right now. They are just happily singing without a care in the world. If I had a knife, it would end up in their body. They deserve it, for mocking us. We're in a miserable situation, and they just sing it off!

"Ha ha ha!" I giggle, finding it growing into quite-loud laughter.

"You will die, birds!" I declare, aimlessly running outside and reaching towards the sky. But unfortunately my quest doesn't last long. The last thing I register before I pass out is the emerald-green blades of grass brushing against my face.

* * *

 _ **Incy Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

How many stone castles did this arena need? From my mountain home I can see at least seven, along with some red-brick manors and a city straight ahead, to the south. The Cornucopia itself kind of looks like a castle. Next to it is a cliff, leading to salty waves crashing onto razor-sharp rocks. I'm surprised no one met their end there. Well, I didn't really stick around for the slaughter, so I wouldn't know.

Salmonberries are perfectly edible. They don't taste fantastic to me, but if that machine was right, they're safe. Of course, I guess I won't know until later. Until then my stomach is full, strangely enough. According to the sky, it's noon. I've been in here more than 24 hours. It's a bit surreal, and it honestly saddens me, because I know that I'm not going to make it out of here alive.

 _Make the most of your last few days._

Should I? It's kind of hard to do that when a feeling of impending doom is sitting in your stomach like a rock. I would be a fool to leave my spot. I would get found in less than an hour, by someone. No matter who they are, they would kill me, even if they had to bang my head on a rock until I was dead. I have no idea how to defend myself.

I'm currently using a kind-of sharp piece of wood as a makeshift "weapon", it slightly injured a wild squirrel earlier, but it took hours for the poor rodent to bleed out. The entire time, it wheezed, coughed, mewled, and I didn't know what to do. I would have ended it right there, but I didn't want to put him in more pain. I wanted to throw him off the side of the mountain and kill him from the impact, but I was not going to touch that thing! Instead, his groans of pain and my exasperated sighs were all I heard until he finally died.

If I get that emotional over a damn rodent, how will I fare if I kill an actual human being? If I even can? I don't know why I'm discouraging myself so much. It can't be healthy for me.

 _Not that killing is any healthier for you, Incy._

* * *

 **Tributes remaining:**

Victoria

Iridi

Calix

Tiger

Gleyn

Tyssa

Styx

Oakley

Grover

Incy

Citlali

Atticus

Kean

Quince

Galvan

* * *

 **Before you complain about no deaths, this is the MORNING of Day 2. Still got a whole evening ahead of us! Maybe there will be some action there…? Anyway, a fun-filled morning for our tributes, consisting of Galvan fishing, a chase, another sponsor gift, Mutts, some craziness? xD Sorry the wait was a little longer this time! As for sponsoring, if you are a constant reviewer, I will pretty much accept anything as long as it's not TOO ridiculous. The spear Citlali received today was from her loyal submitter. And I got another gift I plan on sending next chapter. So if you have a gift, SEND! I'll see you… sometime… as we look at the at how the tributes do in the second half of Day 2!**

 **-Maia**


	19. Hunting Buddies

**_Styx Gasket, 18, District 6 Male_**

* * *

I ran away from the Seven's cave yesterday, but I mustered up the courage to return. They're off guard. I can jump on them, right now. They won't expect me.

Gripping the rock clenched in a fist, I throw myself in front of the entrance to their cave. They yelp upon seeing me, but I waste no time in bringing the rock down on the girl closest to me. I meant to hit her in the forehead, but I actually get her in the ankle. She cries out in pain, but I swipe the axe from her hands and bring the blade down on the boy's calf. I can feel it cut down to the bone.

Before I can finish the job, a red haired girl comes out and shoves me. I try to balance myself, but I eventually fall off of the cliff. I try to let my body fall so I can die, but I collide with a tree branch on the way down. Then I'm just rolling down the side, hitting rocks and branches and more rocks. Sharp ones, too. So sharp it dug into my arm.

I don't know when I hit the bottom. I blacked out in between. All I know is that when I woke up, I just started to run away. To where, I have no clue. I can already see the sky starting to darken, and the howls I heard last night coming back. Silent tears are streaming down my face as I make my way up another, shorter mountain. They can't find me here, I'll be completely, totally safe. I'll wait these Games out. No one will stop me.

* * *

 ** _Incy Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female_**

* * *

Why is Styx coming up my mountain? Did he just injure someone? I see blood on his clothing, so he must have. Shoot, he's heading up my mountain. My heart begins to speed up and sweat is now rushing down my forehead. Clutching the new dart gun I got earlier, I conjure up an idea that makes me question my morality. Kill him.

He's stumbled into my wooded clearing now. I rest my shaky ice cold finger on the trigger, hunched beneath a trunk.

What are you waiting for? Kill him, Incy!

Almost against my will I pull the trigger, watching as the dart spirals through the air. Styx is at point-blank range to it. He almost seems to notice it at the last millisecond as it digs into his forehead.

He collapses to the ground, luckily not screaming. He is spasming and convulsing, though. I don't recall having any poison to dip my darts in, so he's on his own. Blood is beginning to stream down his forehead, and he's sort of stopped spasming, but he still isn't dead. But I can't possibly finish the job. He'll just have to die at some point.

I think I fell asleep after that, because I was yawning and waking up in the same spot hours later. The sun is completely gone now. But literally as I woke up, the anthem played. I didn't catch it, only the blue light on my face and the blaring music as I turned to my victim. I cautiously, almost anxiously, creeped over to Styx. His chest was still rising and falling. When will he die?!

"Die already, idiot!" I hissed at him over the music. But really, why is he not dead? Impatience begins to gather, and I delicately remove the dart from his head, causing an even bigger river of blood to spill. It looks like he's going to bleed out. Finally. A moment to relax. I jump as his cannon sounds after 20 minutes and the hovercraft arrives to take him home.

* * *

 ** _Oakley Gunderson, 16, District 7 Female_**

* * *

I have been in a state of complete panic ever since it happened. Grover told me that they were just "minor injuries" but his blood has soaked the inside of the cave and made the inside smell like the crimson fluid. And Tiger said that her ankle is hurt, too, but will heal up in a few days. If we're even all alive by then. It's difficult to stay inside, so I spend most of my time outside the cave, my feet dangling off the cliff.

Around ten minutes after the anthem ended, I hear beeps, but from what? A sponsor gift?

"Hey, Oakley, come look at this!" Grover says excitedly. I gingerly step inside the dark cave, slightly lit by the light blinking on the box.

"Open it, open it!" Tiger squeals. Grover pops open the box, revealing a red cooler and a packet of jerky. We open the cooler to find some ice chips, spoons, and a cold carton with a cheese label on the side.

"What is this?" I ask them. Tiger gingerly takes a bite from the carton, grinning.

"It's cheese ice cream," she says with a full mouth. Grover shovels the yellowish orange stuff into his mouth, moaning in delight.

"Not bad," he giggles, offering me a spoon. I take a tiny scoop of the ice cream, and gently place my tongue on it. It's a strange taste, but it's not the worst. I haven't had that much cheese in my life, only one time I sold my old Reaping dress to get a block of the stuff. It was one of the few times Father was impressed with me.

"I'm going to bed," I tell them, curling up in the corner of the cave. It takes a real effort to get comfortable on this cold stone floor.

* * *

 ** _Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male_**

* * *

I love practicing to throw spears. It's the only entertainment I have in here. Victoria just stays in her tent all day when we aren't hunting, and she seems very eager to volunteer to take guard when we go hunting ever since yesterday when the 11 boy got away. She convinced me not to chase him. Annoying as hell, but we all seem hell-bent on killing the Sevens and the other girl, Lion or something.

"So, do you guys want to go hunting tonight?" Gleyn asks, somewhat eager.

"Sure, why not?" Iridi says calmly. I grip my spear as Gleyn fetches his trident and Iridi gets his falcata.

We all turn to Victoria's unresponsive tent, still lit up.

"Want to stay guard, Vick?" Iridi asks her. Through her silhouette in the tent, we see her slowly nod in affirmation.

"Guess it's a guy's night," I joke, as I we all jog away with our weapons and our adrenaline. I make an effort to stay in front. I am the leader, after all. I know back then Cerys wanted to be the leader, too, but even if she were here, she had to allow me because I scored higher.

I decide to head in a different direction today. If we got a kill last night in the city, there has to be some kids lurking in the woods.

Those same annoying howls that kept me up all last night are back. It's probably Mutts, but they wouldn't send Mutts after us, only after some scrawny outliers barely holding on.

"C-Calix?" Iridi stutters. Well, I was proved wrong. Because three dogs are surrounding us, wearing diamond crowns. They're licking their lips, as if we're going to be their next meal.

"Shit!" Iridi says in a tense whisper, raising his sword at the beasts. After minutes of a tense standoff, one leaps out at Gleyn. He buries his trident in its throat in seconds, but it gets right back up, the wound gone.

"What the-" he starts, cutting himself off mid-sentence as the creature lunges at him again. My own Mutt is still growling at me. I give it a mean scowl, battling with the creature as my spearhead clangs against its razor-sharp claws. It bites down on my spear, breaking the metal with its massive jaw. Before it completely chomps of my spearhead, Iridi decapitates the creature. It whimpers and falls to the ground, vanishing in a puff of smoke.

"Just cut its head off!" Iridi shouts to Gleyn as he struggled with the creature. Gleyn swipes the trident across the dog's neck, cutting it clean off. Iridi finishes his off shortly after.

I'm about to congratulate my team, but more dogs are here. Way more than before. At least twenty.

"I think we have to run away," I tell him, beginning to sprint out of the woods with Gleyn and Iridi tailing me. I can't tell if the dogs are chasing us or not, but when we make it out of the woods, we aren't even at the Cornucopia. It's a brick building covered in ivy.

I look behind me to see that the dogs are gone, and blood is pouring down Gleyn's arm. He crouches and takes the gauze from his bag, wrapping the cloth around his bloody wound. But I find something special just laying on the ground, and probably the reason the Gamemakers chased us out of the woods.

"Who is that?" Iridi asks me. I inspect the girl on the ground, and by the emblem on her shoulder, she's from District 5.

"Who wants to finish her off?" Gleyn asks us. We all look at each other until I start cracking my knuckles, chuckling.

"Allow me." I muse. I take a small throwing knife from my backpack, crouching over the girl and brushing the blade along her stomach. Her eyes shoot right open, and then her mouth does. She begins to hyperventilate, but I clamp my hand on her mouth.

I would almost admire the girl for how much time passed before she screamed in agony. And it would be until we were almost halfway back to the Cornucopia before her cannon fired.

* * *

 **Eulogies**

 _ **15th- Styx Gasket, District 6 Male: killed by Incense, Day 2**_

 **I actually really liked Styx. But unfortunately I couldn't really find anything to do with him. I figured a lot of you don't like him now because of what he did to the Anti-Careers, and ouch. The way he died must not have felt good. Thanks Maveriqua, for Styx. He was fun, and I hope you will submit to SNOFS!**

* * *

 **1 _4th- Tyssa Woods, District 5 Female: killed by Calix, Day 2_**

 **I feel terrible for this one… I actually came to like Tyssa. I would have enjoyed making her go crazy after Meric's death but things don't always go that way, not when the Careers are hunting. Thank you i believe in nargles too for Tyssa, she will be missed. :(**

* * *

 **Tributes remaining:**

Victoria

Iridi

Calix

Tiger

Gleyn

Oakley

Grover

Incy

Citlali

Atticus

Kean

Quincy

Galvan

* * *

 **The second half of Day 2. I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT! And death, sadly :( But I love all the tributes that are left, I feel awful having to kill them! Oh well. Maia will get over it, eventually. So I'm probably going to just cover all of Day 3 tomorrow, I don't know. I've gotten lots of sponsor gifts lately, which rocks! But I'll have to come up with a better system in SNOFS xD. Oh well. Anyway, stay tuned for the 3rd day in the arena!**

 **-Maia**


	20. Exploring is Fun

**Iridi Lotu, 17, District 1 Male**

* * *

Night hunts are way more exhausting than I thought they would be. I got a little sick on the way back, probably from the smell of blood. Well, I should get used to it, because blood is something that a Victor is required to spill. When we _finally_ got back to the Horn at around 7 in the morning, we found the Cornucopia and our supplies intact. And Victoria was still there. A small part of me thought she wasn't going to be here when we got back.

I tiptoe over to her tent, which is flowing in the cold morning air.

"Time to get up," I tell her, gently shaking the dew-soaked fabric. She pops her head out a few moments later, smiling when sees me.

"Morning," Victoria chirps, "how are you?" Before I answer, Calix interrupts me. I cringe when I see that look of overwhelming pride in his beady eyes.

"We're great! We found the scrawny girl from 5 last night, and she's history." This emits no response, so Calix just continues to walk into the Cornucopia and sits down on a crate.

"Man, Cerys would have been hyped to see that." These words that come out of his mouth are the first words he's spoken that don't have arrogance dripping from them. He almost sounds... sad. And here I thought Careers didn't have any feelings. I certainly don't.

Gleyn, who has been rather quiet all night, mutters a question to Calix that I almost didn't register at first.

"Do you miss her?"

Calix hangs his head for a few seconds, before whipping it back up and beginning to twirl his sword.

"Not at all. She would have just gotten in my way." he says proudly. Calix begins picking through crates, grabbing an apple from a burlap sack and throwing it off the cliff. I just scoff and turn to Gleyn and Victoria, who are already preparing our breakfast of crackers and fruit. Gleyn looks more withdrawn than usual. Probably sleep-deprived.

"Okay, let's be honest; who's getting a little sick of this guy?" Vicky asks in a tense whisper, motioning to Calix, who is now throwing rocks off the cliff playfully. We all nod in agreement, which relieves me, because not only is this guy driving me crazy, he's competition.

"I am, for sure." I tell her. Gleyn slowly nods in agreement. Up close, I spot drooping bags under his eyes.

"I have an idea, a genius idea." Victoria tells us. I lean in, somewhat eager. Gleyn asks her to explain.

In a little more than thirty seconds, she says that we will all take him on a hunt later and when he's off-guard, we'll take him out. Calix begins to walk over, so Victoria frantically cuts herself off and smiles at him.

"What a great idea, Iridi!" she spits out, grinning wide. Calix looks off-put.

"What idea?" he asks angrily.

"Iridi just said that we should go out on a day hunt! I mean, it's the last thing tributes will expect." A sinister grin forms on his face, and he begins to rub his chin.

"Sounds fun. We can go at noon," he replies, looking at the sky, which says that it's around 8 in the morning. Calix just goes right back to the cliff and starts swiping his spear around, ducking and parrying as if he's already preparing himself. The only thing I'm worried about is if our skills combined aren't enough.

 _Nonsense. Three against one is hardly a fair fight, even for him!_

And he won't be prepared. This'll all be worth it when we return with his head.

* * *

 _ **Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female**_

* * *

When the temperature plummeted last night, all I could do was curl up in a ball and desperately try to gather some warmth. But someone sent me my first and probably only sponsor gift, hot cocoa. I only recall having cocoa once: a few years back when District 9 had grown too much cocoa for even the Capitol to consume. The districts with at least one tribute in the Top 8 that year had some sent, and since we had two in the Final 8, we got double. I still remember sipping the steaming hot chocolate from the heirloom mugs we had stolen from the kitchen. Fructus made Lemon laugh, so much so that the liquid sprayed from his nostrils. That was one of the better moments of living in 11.

By morning it was almost chocolate milk. I thirstily chug the remainders from the metal canteen, stowing the empty cup away. Oddly enough, my stomach isn't bothering me. I would have thought for sure by Day 3 that I would be keeling over in hunger.

But I _am_ bored. Just sitting here in the tree for two days straight has caused me to become restless. I untie myself from the branch, rising and stretching. My limbs feel like they've turned to concrete, and my joints are aching profusely. I spot a house in the distance. Maybe if I go for into the house, I'll have a warm bed, maybe some books to read. It's also rather cold today, at least, colder than yesterday, so at least some insulation from the house will keep me warm.

I carefully slide down from branch to branch, so I don't fall off and end myself. But my the time my feet smack against the forest floor, I'm wishing I had stayed in my branch.

Because there is a group of humanoid figures marching in the distance.

I dive into a bush next to me, already feeling cuts and scrapes, but none of that compares to how bad I'm shaking. I finally take a deep breath, calming myself to the point where the bush I'm trying not to be seen in isn't trembling.

"Make way! Make way for their Majesties!"

A deep, adult-sounding voice said those words. I don't recall anyone having a voice like that in their interviews. Is it a jabberjay, or a Mutt? I am praying it is not the latter. Through small holes in the leaves, I see a silver-looking figure marching and holding a flag. Behind him, there are around three people in a single-file line wearing crowns. Princes? But the one last in line catches my eye. Her long brown hair, her minute structure.

It's Kyva Ruun from District 6.

The group stops, standing in a row while the silver man inspects them. He points north, and one of the princes rushes away in that very direction. The other heads in the opposite direction, but Kyva heads into my woods. My vision is beginning to go a little fuzzy when I see her pull out a sword. I just shut my eyes as tight as I can and stop breathing, but as Kyva gets closer and closer, I'm surprised I'm not hyperventilating.

Much to my relief, she walks right past my bush.

After a few minutes of her getting farther from me, she turns around, not noticing me a second time. When she vanishes from heavily wooded entrance to the forest, I'm finally allowed to breathe.

Why was Kyva Ruun in the arena? I could have sworn her face was in the sky that first night. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe I'm dreaming. Or maybe she was brought from the dead. And with that sword in her hand, her intention was probably to kill.

That sort of gives me motivation to stay alive. The last thing I want is to be some mindless thing with the sole purpose to take lives. I mean, I'm not a Career. With that in mind, I shake my way out of the bush and scramble back up the tree, kissing it's bark when I reach the top.

"I will _never_ leave you again." I tell it.

* * *

 _ **Gleyn Bersond, 17, District 4 Male**_

* * *

I agreed to help Iridi and Vicky kill Calix, but now I'm starting to realize that it's a task easier said than done, even with him outmatched. I mainly agreed because I need to take my mind off of what happened in the bloodbath. I knew I needed to kill because I'm a Career, but her voice is playing over and over again in my head and I can't make it stop.

 _You killed me. You killed me._

It got a little hard to focus when it first started happening late last night, but now it's almost crippling. I can't think straight most of the time. I just lay inside my green tent, staring lazily at the fabric of the ceiling flowing in the cold breeze.

 _Do you even know my name?_

I jolt up, frantic at the voice I just heard. I wasn't mine, and I certainly wasn't any of the Careers. It just came out of nowhere.

"It's nothing," I whisper to myself. I lay back down, playing with a pair of throwing knives.

 _I asked you a question. Do you even know my name?_

I accidentally sliced into my index finger with the blade when the voice showed up again, causing a fountain of blood to stream down my hand. I quickly pull some gauze from my bag, wrapping my hand in the material. The flow stopped after around ten minutes, but the voice didn't.

 _I bet you feel really good about yourself. You killed me, an innocent girl. I was supposed to go home!_

"Please stop, I'm sorry," I whimper, hoping in vain that she will let up. But that's the last thing she did.

 _You aren't sorry! You like killing, admit it._

"But I don't." I tell the voice. Surprisingly, it stops infecting my thoughts after I made that statement. Did I just admit to myself that I don't like killing? But that's impossible. I'm a Career tribute. Killing is my job. It's what I was destined to do. Why am I so afraid of killing now?

It must be because I'm going soft. I need to kill again to feel like myself once more. I hope Victoria and Iridi leave Calix in one piece so I can happily dig my trident into his back. Then, all this pressure will be released. You're not because you killed someone, Gleyn. You're sad because you aren't killing enough.

 _You poor, pathetic bastard._

* * *

 ** _Grover Ridley, 17, District 7 Male_**

* * *

Us Anti-Careers have decided to become nomads. Staying in that musty cave is proving not to have a very good psychological effect. We might not find a home, but maybe a walk will help heal the wound I got yesterday. Tiger already said her ankle feels better, to the point where she can walk again.

"Hey, party people, how about we go for a nice, peaceful, morning stroll and walk these injuries off?" I ask my group. Oakley perks up at the prospect of going outside, and Tiger hesitantly rises to her feet, stretching.

"Sure, why not? I'm ready to kick some butt," she sneers. We all begin packing our stuff, prepared to leave our cave home forever. Oakley and I take our axes, and Teila grabs her makeshift sword weapon she made from wood. But as she looks at it in disgust, we hear beeping.

"Another gift!" Oakley cries out. The box is elongated this time, and quite large. And it came with a note.

 _Thought you might need this. Please be careful. -Sirena_

"Well, open it, birthday girl!" I tell Tiger. She smirks at me before lifting the top off of the box, her jaw dropping when she gets a look at whats inside.

It's a spear, sitting on a bed of crushed velvet.

"Oh, my, gosh," she sputters, in awe of the silvery weapon in her hands. The tip is sharp to the point, gleaming, just asking to be buried in a snarky Career's backside. Tiger begins twirling around her spear, looking at me and Oakley.

"Well, party people, let's do this!" she exclaims, and slides down the dirt slope of our mountain, whooping as she hits the bottom.

"Come on, slowpokes. We don't got all day!" she yells at us from the bottom. Oakley carefully makes her way down in contrast to Tiger, and I decide to take the long way down because of my injury. I wince as several tree branches scrape against my bandaged wound.

I finally meet Tiger and Oakley at the bottom. Oakley shoots Tiger a mean look as soon as I join them.

"Grover's hurt, you know. We can't always be so reckless." whispers Oakley. Tiger scowls at her, but the glances at me, and apologizes. It almost looked like a few choice words were going to come from her mouth. Oakley and Tiger don't have the best chemistry, but it seems like it hasn't evolved into full-fledged arguing. At least, not yet.

"Who wants to lead?" I ask the both of them. Oakley shakes her head, declining, but Tiger shoots her hand up excitedly.

"Me, me! Pick me, teacher!" she says jokingly. I allow her to take the spot in the front of our pack, and she begins to march, holding up her spear. At first, her pace was uncomfortably quick, but she gradually slowed down to the point where it was a nice stroll. I turn to Oakley, who is taking in he scenery as we walk.

"What's that?" I ask her, pointing to a strange-looking statue with no real shape or form. It sort of looks like a deformed frog, but I guess it could also pass for a fish.

"I believe that's called abstract art," she explains to me, "it doesn't really have to be anything."

I admittedly have never seen anything like that. All "art" in Seven, if you can even call it that, is either carvings on trees or Capitol propaganda. Besides, we didn't really have time for leisure besides training more at the academy. The more I think about it, the more I'm going to miss waking up to a horn, in the presence of my beloved friends, where I'm completely safe. Here, death is on all of our doorsteps.

In the middle of our march, Tiger says we can take a water break. I crack open a bottle, gulping down the cold liquid but stopping myself from chugging the whole bottle. But soon Tiger is crying out, telling us to take cover somewhere.

"Guys, hide. I can see the Careers from here. Three of them. Hide!"

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, District 9 Female**_

* * *

It's only Day 3 and food is becoming scarce. My stomach is beginning to sink in like it used to at the orphanage. Only now, I know I can't just sneak some bread to fill me, I could very well die from this. We'e both been sitting in this somewhat destroyed plaza in the city. Several structures have crumbled to the ground, but the roads are generally intact. Atticus has been sitting on a ruined statue for hours, nervously bouncing his knee. Almost against my will, tears begin coursing down my face in thick strands. Atticus looks at me with concern.

"What's the matter?" he asks me. I just bury my face deep in my hands, blubbering.

"I'm going to die. I don't want to die," I sob, collapsing face first into the concrete ground. Atticus just rubs my shoulder as I lay in a heap, until the tears stop and I'm sitting upright.

"Done?" he questions. I nod slightly, wiping my face on my jacket and letting out a deep exhale. I glance up at Atticus, who is back on his rock, staring into the distance. He looks cold, and almost unfeeling. Unsettled, I ask if anything is on his mind.

"No." he says dismissively. Now I'm worried. Yesterday he wasn't in the highest of spirits, but today, I've only gotten a few words out of him. He didn't even touch his jerky crumbs.

I think we sat like that for another hour or so. The temperature started to drop, so I started hugging myself for warmth. Atticus didn't. He acted as if he couldn't feel the cold at all, and just sat there, letting the wind batter on his face. I started to get uncomfortable, so I curled up in a pile of leaves, clutching my spear. He's been eyeing my weapon for a while now. Like he almost wants it. Boredom began to set in, so I began to sing a nursery rhyme from the orphanage in my head _._

 _Girls and boys come out to play_

 _The moon doth shine as bright as day_

 _Leave your supper, and leave your sleep_

 _And join your playfellows in the street._

"Citlali, I need to tell you something." Atticus says out of the blue.

 _Come with a whoop, and come with a call_

 _Come with a good will or not at all_

 _Up the ladder and down the wall_

 _A penny loaf will serve you all._

"What is it, Atticus?" I question, nervous. Atticus turns to me and makes eye contact, something I'm sure he wouldn't do with me anymore. He begins to step towards me, slowly, too slowly, and is inches away from my face when he utters something I almost ask him to repeat.

"I'm glad we're allies." he mumbles. The relief is almost overwhelming.

"I am, too." I say warmly. He returns to his statue perch, ripping off chunks of the brittle stone and throwing them away. I'm more confused than I am flattered. In these Games, confusion is probably something I should get used to.

* * *

Tributes remaining:

Victoria

Iridi

Calix

Tiger

Gleyn

Oakley

Grover

Incy

Citlali

Atticus

Kean

Quincy

Galvan

* * *

 **The first half of Day 3! The tributes are really starting to get settled in this arena, aren't they? Poor kids. They have no idea what's coming ahead. Eh, that's all I got as far as authors notes. Stay tuned for the second half of Day 3, children!**

 **-Ruby**


	21. The Tower

**Victoria** _ **Rochas, 16, District 1 Female**_

* * *

Trekking up hill after hill gets tiring. We finally reached an open valley, filled with pastel-colored wildflowers and tall grasses. A perfect place for tributes to hide.

"Hey, guys, there might be some tributes in here!" Calix yells. What an idiot. If a tribute was in there, they're taking off in the other direction now because of this cocky Two-boy. Every single year they're the same. Arrogant, self-centered. They never learn, do they? Cerys, an actually worthy competitor and my only true friend in these Games, died in the bloodbath. The bloodbath! Why do I get a suspicion that he's starting to miss her? Maybe he actually has human emotions?

"Oh, my god. Guys, I see the Sevens!" Iridi cries out. Excitement rises as I see a wisp of Oakley's red hair in the grass. Calix can die after these fools do.

A silvery spear whizzes through the air, finding a target in the form of Iridi's thigh. He howls in pain, roughly pulling the weapon out of his flesh and swiping his sword across the blades of grass to clear his vision.

Someone tackles me. I can't tell who at first. But when I see the fiery red hair of my attacker, I immediately know it's Grover Ridley.

All of my knives were knocked from my hand, and my whip is still around my waist. Desperate, as he is trying to bring his axe down towards my skull, I dodge and the blade hits the grass. I pull out my whip in a last-resort attempt, but with it being useless at such short range, I grip the strings of the weapon and push them against his throat. The sharp wires cut into his neck, causing him to choke up blood and convulse. I throw him off of me, beelining towards a struggling Calix and Oakley. For some reason, the thought of her dying starts to greatly upset me. She deserves to live more than he does. He's more off-guard now than he's been all day.

I shove my knife through his tailbone, causing him to make an inhuman sound before falling into the grass. Oakley's tear-stained face morphs into an expression of confusion as she dashes away with Tiger. Frightened, I turn on my heel. But my ankle is grabbed by a monstrous hand, tripping me. The hand came from Calix, who is standing up, much to my horror. Gleyn is nowhere to be seen.

"She attacked me! Kill her!" demands Calix. I stare at Iridi with tear-stained eyes, pleading with them silently. Iridi looks at me uneasily, then doesn't make eye contact with me at all.

Before sending the throwing knife into my skull, Iridi mouthed two words at me that I almost missed.

 _I'm sorry._

When that blade sunk into my forehead, my vision instantly went black. For a few seconds, all I could hear was muffled laughter. Probably from that bastard Calix. I let them down. At least I won't have to deal with him anymore.

* * *

 _ **Oakley Gunderson, 16, District 7 Female**_

* * *

I stood in disbelief as Grover laid in a bloodied heap on the grass. His eyes had already glazed over.

"Grover, no! Please! Wake up!" I cried, shaking his still body. I swear, I heard that last exhale from his mouth and his chest falling moments before that cannon rang.

 _BOOM!_

A throwing knife buried itself in my shoulder, and I cry out before someone firmly grips my wrist.

"Oakley, come on!" Tiger shouted at me. The Careers were laughing at us, and Calix lunged onto me seconds later.

This is it. I'm going to die.

I try to stay onto my feet as he attempts to force me down to bring his spearhead into my temple. Just as it pierced my skin, he screamed in my face, released his grip and fell down next to me.

I'm about to thank Tiger for saving my life, but instead, I'm looking at Victoria holding a bloody knife.

I'm grabbed by the very girl I confused with Victoria, and my circulation is almost cut off at how hard she's gripping my wrist.

 _BOOM!_

"Let's go!" she screams at me. We run as fast as we humanly can, not daring to look and see if the Careers are following us. We both tumbled down a steep hill, leading to a small cottage-dotted village. We collapse once we reach the inside of a hut, landing on a homemade quilt. All I can see is some happy-looking kids carrying fruits and yellow cloth.

Tiger sits up, curling up against a furnace and letting out a deep sigh.

But then she begins to giggle. Then she begins to chuckle. And then she's full-out cackling. I look at her, unsettled, and she looks at me with crazy eyes.

"This is crazy, Oakley! This is effing crazy!" she says wildly. I just put my hood over my head, taking off my silver tiara and tossing it across the room, causing it to shatter and diamonds to spill all over the place.

* * *

 _ **Gleyn Bersond, 17, District 4 Male**_

* * *

I have no clue where Iridi is. Or Victoria. Or even Calix. I'm wandering, in a haze, in God knows where. I can barely see or hear. My backpack was taken away at some point during the fight with the Anti-Careers. Damn those Anti-Careers. I hope they all die.

 _Die..._

I was barely even aware as I briefly lost consciousness and landed face-first in the grass. I laid there, sniffing the dirt, for what felt like hours. I took a nice nap, a dirt nap.

But I was rudely awakened by a cold metal boot stomping down on my back.

"Gleyn Bersond, you are ordered by her Grace Lady Landers to come with us to the Tower."

"Tower..." I mumble, still face-first in the ground. Two guards already lift me and restrain me, and as I struggle, a somewhat small figure walks up from behind the knight, wearing metal armor and a gold crown. Tears begin to prick in my eyes as they meet the now colorless eyes of the girl I killed in the bloodbath.

"You will come with me," she says in a robotic tone. I'm shaking and struggling as I'm dragged by the guards, and tears are already spilling. No, Gleyn. Don't cry. You're tough, you can get through this. I'm just dreaming. This isn't real.

I was escorted from the plain to the giant tower on the other end of the arena, the trip taking hours upon hours. My legs were ready to give way halfway through, and when I collapsed, a guard threw me over their shoulder. Now my face is banging against the metal back plate whenever we walk, causing an enormous gash to form in my left cheek. I must look like a fool to everyone back home. Especially my sister.

I may have fallen asleep halfway through. Or I blacked out. I don't know. All I know is that when we arrived, I was plopped onto the cold stone floor, my arm landing the wrong way as I hit the ground. I cried in pain as I grabbed my broken wrist.

"Rise," ordered the girl. I did just that, with every bit of energy I had left. Fatigue sets throughout my entire body. I feel like I might faint again.

"Follow me." she says again, but her voice is drowned out by the excessive ringing in my ears. We work our way up countless flights of stairs, every step feeling longer and more tiring than the last. At some point we reach the top.

She pushes me harshly into my dimly-lit cell, slamming the door as soon as I land into a pile of hay. I lean against the stack, letting out a deep sigh. I have no clue why I'm even here. And these Mutts won't tell me. She returns a few minutes later with a pouch in her hand, and she tosses it at me as if I were an animal.

"I bet, after all of this," she says coldly, "you still don't remember my name."

When she leaves, I'm left with nothing but cracked lips and the strong sunlight peeking through my tiny cell window.

* * *

 _ **Atticus Faux, 16, District 9 Male**_

* * *

Citlali was completely exhausted by the time sunset came. She said she was going to retire to bed early, because we were planning on going hiking tomorrow. As she crawled into a pile of leaves, her new bed, I heard snoring within minutes. She is holding her spear in her sleep, but her backpack is under her neck as a sort of pillow.

Now's my chance.

I'm pretty mistrusting of others, even my own district partner. Because she has a weapon and I don't, I feel like the only way I'm going to make it is if I have everything I need. And the thought of Citlali watching over me with a spear in her hand does make the anxiety rise. I creep over to her sleeping hole, and slowly, ever so slowly, slide my hand onto the cold spear.

I nearly jump out of my skin when Citlali starts to stir. But luckily, she loosens her grip of the weapon. I scoop up the spear before it can hit the concrete floor and wake her up. I have the spear but I still need her backpack, which contains all of my water. Since she's using it as a pillow, I can't just grab it from under her, so I carefully unzip the bag, cringing as the zipper makes a creaking sound. She remains still as I remove the only water bottle we owned throughout the entire Games, which is half-empty. The bag flops from the weight being removed, so I grab a fistful of leaves and shove them inside. I leave the zipper open, not wanting the sound to cause problems. With this sharp metal weapon in my hand, and Citlali's vulnerable sleeping form below me, I stare at the weapon, the at her, at the weapon, at her. I could do it now. I could eliminate a tribute a further myself in these Games. I already heard two cannons today, she could be the third. Three deaths in one day. Surely the Gamemakers will go easy on me from then on. I had already made a kill, and satisfied the audience. They wouldn't mess with me again.

But on the other hand, I would be killing my own district partner. Calic, Audra, and Levinia are now at the same orphanage Citlali was raised in. When Citlali told me that kids were kicked out because they didn't walk in a single file line to breakfast, if I kill one of their own, surely that's a reason to banish my siblings to the streets. I can't let them down, especially when they think I'm going to come back and let them move into a big Victor's Village mansion with me.

Relaxing my arm holding the spear, I just fling my bag over my shoulder and take a few last glances at a still-sleeping Citlali. A stray tear runs down my face, but I roughly wipe it away and tiptoe until I step foot out of the city. After paying it one more look, I turn around and prepare to begin my own personal quest. I can do this. For the first time in the entire Games, I feel... free.

I smell some flowers on the way. I nearly tripped on a rock, but I just laughed it off. As much as I care for my district partner, it's almost amazing how much better I feel by myself.

But this feeling of freedom only lasts a few minutes. I walk into a gang of silver knight-looking figures holding swords. Oh, great.

"Are you Atticus Faux?" one of them says, in a low, demanding tone. I slowly shake my head, but my neck jolts up as something is shot at me through a blowpipe. My body paralyzes and fall onto the grass, completely unable to move.

"You are ordered by her Grace Lady Asana to come with us to the Tower." it tells me. All I can do is comply, because I've gone unconscious by the time they start dragging me on the ground.

* * *

 _ **Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

Why have I just been doing nothing all day? I haven't had the energy to get up, drink, eat, or do anything. I think I forced some water down my throat earlier, but that's it. I don't know how long I've just been sitting on the mountain. The sun is already beginning to peek below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the arena. I can see castles, brick manors, gardens, and even a little city. I heard screaming nearby earlier, and then a couple of cannons.

 _Great. More people are dying._

Counting the cannons I heard today and the faces from the last couple of days, there's 11 of us left. Games usually last around a week to ten days. Which means I have a few more days of this crap until I die. I wonder when I'm going to die. I know I'll be dead when it happens, but I'm going to despise the moment my parents open my coffin, to see my pale, lifeless corpse. I hope I'm buried holding a good book. The day I was taken from my home, I was checking out a book. What I wouldn't give to have just one book, any book. Longing for a reminder of home, I pull my little red candle out of my pocket that I made when I was six. This thing is dripping with wax and sentimental value, and just having my eyes on it cause emotions to flood. I've been doing my best to keep my cool these Games, but this is way more than I can handle. I can feel sleep coming on already.

Just as my eyelids start to droop, the blasting music sounds. I look in dread as I see the newest corpses.

 _Victoria Rochas, District 1 Female_

 _Grover Ridley, District 7 Male_

Victoria Rochas and Grover Ridley. I think those were the only two interviews I actually remembered. And Ridley had one of the highest scores of this year. The fact that these two kids were alive and well around three days ago makes me upset. Now they're dead. In a hovercraft, being cleaned up, having their wounds caked in concealing makeup. I read that after the tribute dies, their Reaping outfit is fetched and is put back on them before they are shipped back home in an ornate coffin. I don't know why, but I start to silently cry as soon I see the glowing faces leave the sky. I have no clue why death is starting to get to me. I think I realized how precious human life is and how easily it can be taken when my dart entered Styx's forehead.

I'm expecting the Capitol to fade from the sky once the anthem ends, but for some reason, it lingers.

"Attention tributes. Good job so far! You have all made these Games very exciting! But, lucky for you, it's about to get even more exciting!" a voice cries out.

* * *

 _ **Prosperina Dew, 28, Head Gamemaker**_

* * *

Holding the small microphone in my hand, a map of the Tribute Tower is displayed in front of me.

"Some of you may have seen some very familiar faces today," I point out. "You probably thought they were dead! Well, they're back, and they're on a mission."

Several mentors shoot me dirty looks, but I ignore it as best as I can. It's understandable that they're angry the tributes that some of them grew attached to are being turned into Mutts, but they shouldn't have let them die at all.

"What kind of mission are they on, you ask? Well, I can't say, that would spoil the surprise!"

I can see several tribute's reactions on various different screens. Most of them just groan. The girl from 9 does start to sob.

"But that's not all, folks! Two very special tributes, the boys from 4 and 9 specifically, are being held prisoner! If you battle your way up the Tower located in the northern part of the arena and save them, you'll be spared from Mutts for the rest of the Games!" I giggle a little bit on that last statement, but when I realize that was a little too much, I awkwardly cough in an attempt to cover it up.

"Good luck tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" I click the off button on my microphone, getting ample applause from my Gamemakers. I give the Mentors a smirk, heading back to my post with a calm disposition and a stone-cold mask. But a wide grin plasters itself on my face as I see the boys from 10 and 11, coming from different directions, heading to the Tower. Moniqua and Autumn are already sighing in worry, but these boys are about to become heroes.

* * *

 _ **Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male**_

* * *

The blood flow stopped a little when I forced some gauze onto the wound, but intense agony ensured if I even touched it. Physically, I feel like crap, but mentally, I feel worse. Someone I was supposed to trust, and the only attractive Career, literally back stabbed me. And now, because of her, the Career pack has been reduced down to two. Iridi and I. We don't even mention Gleyn.

"I can't believe her," I complain as Iridi tends to my wound. He just silently nods, continuing to dab it in rubbing alcohol.

"I mean, I just can't believe her. Thanks for doing her in, Iridi." I tell him. More silence. Is he giving me the silent treatment?

"Hey, speak up!" I shout at him. Iridi jumps, and clammy sweat is dripping down his forehead and cheeks.

"Yeah, what a bitch," he says quietly. I grin at that remark, looking downwards towards the crashing waves and sharp rocks. I wonder if someone would die if they feel down there. I mean, of course they would. The rocks are razor sharp. I might want to test that theory later on down the road.

"So what do you want to do tomorrow?" Iridi asks me shakily. I got a lot done today. Grover is dead, my main goal. Cerys and I were originally going to take him out on the first night together, but... things didn't work out. Where was I when she was killed? Probably killing some other twerp. All I saw was her crawling back to the inside of the Horn, holding her stomach and crying. But I turned my back and killed the boy from 5, acting unfazed as I taunted the girl crying for her district partner. I wanted to go and hold Cerys' hand while she died, and honorable thing for Careers to do, but of course, a brainless kid from 12 got in my way. And I had no choice but to dismember her. By the time I got to Cerys, she was gone.

I don't know why I reminiscing that event so much. Why am I missing her? I shouldn't miss her. She was just from my district. She was from the private academy. And we had nothing in common.

Despite all the reasons I just named proving why I _shouldn't_ miss her, I can't stop a few tears from dripping down my face. Luckily, Iridi was fetching more gauze when they splashed onto the ground.

After he wraps my entire side in bandages, he tells me that he's going to bed. Iridi quickly slips away into, oddly, Victoria's tent. Maybe he's going to see if she was hiding something. Or he's just too tired to notice that it wasn't his own tent. He's acting like a coward, too. The only difference between us is that I do a much better job at hiding it. District Ones have always been soft. District 4 must be even softer, given that Gleyn is trapped in the Tower, as the voice called it. There's a tall, lit-up stone tower in the distance, but I can barely see it thanks to the fog that is starting to cover the arena. I have no reason to want to be free from Mutts for the rest of the Games, I could take them even _with_ my injury. Iridi, I'm not so sure about.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 _ **13th- Grover Ridley, District 7 Male- throat slit by Victoria, Day 3**_

 **I am shaking and crying right now. It tore my heart out to write his death scene. I so wanted him to last longer, maybe even win, but Victoria was killing in self-defense, unfortunately. He was funny, quick-witted, and always lit the room up. How will Tiger and Oakley fare now that he's gone? We'll have to see. Thank you, IlluminatingSpirit, for Grover. Let's hope Oakley and Tiger can move on without him.**

 _ **12th- Victoria Rochas, District 1 Female- throwing knife to the head by Iridi, Day 3**_

 **Victoria was nice. She was graceful and pure, traits usually not seen in a Career. You were turned on, my dear. You thought you had it all planned out, but life didn't work out that way. In terms of placements, you were kinda all over the place. You went from Bloodbath to Top 8 to Top 4 to 12th. Thank you Starlily for Victoria, she was a joy.**

* * *

 **Tributes remaming: 10**

Iridi Lotu, 1M- _At the Cournucopia_

Calix Livianus, 2M- _At the Cournucopia_

Tiger Kaley, 4F- _At Cornwall Village_

Gleyn Bersond, 4M- _Imprisoned in the Tribute Tower_

Oakley Gunderson, 7F- _At Cornwall Village_

Incense Vasquez, 8F- _On the East Mountain_

Citlali Kenyie, 9F- _At Little London_

Atticus Faux, 9M- _Imprisoned in the Tribute Tower_

Kean Avrett, 10M - _Heading towards the Tribute Tower_

Quincy Aubergine, 11F- _At the North Forest_

Galvan Clearcreek, 11M- _Heading towards the Tribute Tower_ _._

* * *

 **Wow... what a chapter. This was so fun to write. I know I'm throwing in a lot of weird elements, like the Tower of Tributes, but it makes it more _fun!_ Can't an insecure Head Gamemaker have some fun? Also, FYI, if your kiddo ends up in the Tower, they cannot receive sponsor gifts. So, yeah :( So that's it for Day 3. Remember, review, review, review! I love hearing what everyone thinks of RB! Wish the tributes luck, I will see you next time!**

 **-Maia**


	22. Under the Rubble

**Sorry for the wait! Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Kean Avrett, 18, District 10 Male**_

I expected to get to this damn tower last night, but it's morning and I'm still walking. My feet are beginning to shake, and I force myself to sit down to rest for a moment. My lips are cracked and dry, so I begin to chew on a gel packet from the apartment that I had brought with me. It's blue and green, and tastes like dish soap but it's better than nothing. It's much better. In fact, my lip are already beginning to get their color back and my tongue isn't dry as sandpaper anymore. Not having water in four days is way worse than I had thought. I swore back home we would go on camping trips to the border and I would forget water but be just fine. But now, my mouth tastes like soap and sadness and I don't even seem to be close to where I'm headed.

I started travelling late last night immediately after the announcement. I have nothing better to do, anyway. Depression is starting to set in after being trapped in this arena. It's only been four days but it feels like an eternity to me. I just want to go home and see Damien again. I'll be able to do that if I just win these damn Games. I wish it was that simple. I can't live happily ever after and start a family, because the Capitol loves seeing a Victor's kid in the fight. Unless they're Careers, their overall chances are very slim. But I did know quite a few people who trained their kids informally. Maybe that's why our kids seem to make it pretty far these past few years.

After more and more walking, I can see the Tower in the distance. Cracks are beginning to form on the outside, but it doesn't seem like anything major. I think I need to lay down again. I felt bad but I feel worse now. Overwhelming waves of nausea are pouring over me now. As I'm leaning against the sturdy trunk of the tree, I see something running to the Tower. As it gets smaller and smaller, my vision begins to turn blue. I don't know what's going on but it calms me down enough so I can close my eyes a little. Soon I'm finding them impossible to open. Soon I can't do anything at all.

 _BOOM!_

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

Wow, I'm a pathetic mess. All I've been able to do for the past three hours is cry.

My water's gone. My special sponsor spear is gone, too. Everything's gone. Including Atticus. I woke up last night and I felt way more exhausted than usual. I got up to get a drink of water but it was gone. I soon found almost everything was taken. Without any control of my emotions, I allow tears to begin pouring down my face, unaware of how much I'm dehydrating myself. Now I've cried so much that I can't cry anymore. I just let out loud sobs without any regard. That was, until I heard soft beeping.

It was _another_ sponsor gift. And this one came with a note, too.

 _Sorry, Citlali. This was all we could afford._

It's a pocket knife. It's not nearly as sharp as my new spear but it is sharp enough to pierce my skin without putting much pressure on it. A pocket knife, huh? I'm not surprised that this was all they could get, but considering how inflated sponsor gifts can get, I'm glad I didn't receive an ice pick or something.

But this is good, too. It's sharp. And shiny. I could bury this into the back of someone's neck without them even noticing. With the spear, I had to throw it and hope that it hits the target. But this, this is better. I can finally do something with this. I can kill.

Even though I have zero energy, I struggle to my feet and clutch my knife, the only thing I have left. I leave my empty backpack behind. It represents all that was stolen from me. I don't even think i just want to kill Atticus. I'll kill anyone who gets in my way until I'm the only tribute left in this hellish arena.

* * *

 _ **Galvan Clearcreek, 17, District 11 Male**_

Jogging got me through the first part of my journey, but that part of it is over. I was jogging, and then I was speed walking, and then I was walking, stomping, and now I'm crawling. Have I gotten there yet? This is utter torture. My legs have never felt this bad in years, since I had to work from 12AM to 12PM during the Fall Harvest. Even then, I was in the company of my friends and I knew I was, for the most part, safe.

Here, I don't even know if I'll make it to the next day alive. I can never let my guard down. When I'm walking or crawling depending on my energy level, I constantly look behind me to see if anyone's tailing me. When I think I'm okay, my eyes focus back to the ground.

That's when I notice it trembling.

An earthquake? Boy, the Gamemakers love giving us a hard time. Natural disasters are all-too common in these Games and I've seen enough of them to know that it usually results in casualties. I don't want to be one of them.

I duck behind the nearest thing I can find, a water fountain. I curl up into a ball behind it and tense up, but something in the far distance catches my attention. The same Tower in the distance had cracks before, but now they're growing and even chunks of the wall are coming out. Even though I'm around a mile away from it, I immediately know that besides rubble falling, I can hear screams. Someone is trapped in there.

Now it sounds like _two_ people are trapped. The tremors have stopped but the Tower's foundation is crumbling. The bottom of it is beginning to fall apart, and at the rate it's traveling, the top will become debris soon. Without hesitation, I use all my energy to sprint towards the structure but I find myself tiring easily.

 _No, Galvan. They need your help. Help them._

By helping whoever is trapped I'm lowering my odds, but that's what I came to do in the first place. Plus, they have to hold up on the no Mutts rule. I arrived quicker than I thought I would. I'm nearly crushed by a falling chunk of concrete. But I notice that when I reach the source of the screams, one begins to die down until I can't hear anything at all.

 _BOOM!_

"Help me!" cries a voice. I look around, confused and frightened.

"I'm right here!" it says again. I lift a rock off of where I think the voice is coming from, and sure enough, I find a haggard-looking boy, the lower-half of his body crushed.

* * *

 _ **Atticus Faux, 16, District 9 Male**_

I can see light again. When that boy lifted the rock off me, I was freed. I try to rise to my feet, but it's almost impossible as I can't feel anything below my waist. I stare in horror as I notice half of me is under a boulder. It doesn't take long for me to start weeping in front of him. Nice, Atticus.

"Thank you," I attempt to say, but all that comes out is a breathless mutter. I clear my throat, thanking him with a somewhat clearer voice. But he seems to understand.

"No problem," he says uneasily. As I try to get a closer look at his face, I notice that he's the boy from District 11. I didn't remember him all that well during the pre-Games. Ah, the pre-Games. Back when I was complaining about how ugly my costume was or about how nervous I was for my interview. Meanwhile Citlali and Petal endlessly chat about life in 9. Mentors weren't supposed to pick favorites, so why did she choose Citlali? I know it's a horrible thing to wish, but I wish the cannon I heard earlier was Citlali's. At least I'll outplace her. The boy tells me he's leaving. Big surprise.

As he says this a box falls from the sky, and he opens it. I almost light up when I see it, but all that's in there is a note.

"What does it-" I start, but my throat just completely stops working from there.

"It's from... the Head Gamemaker." he states. He thoroughly reads the note several times, and then a grimace forms on his face. Worry begins to form in my stomach.

"It's nothing," he says. "Let's get you out of there."

He was going to abandon me, and now he's trying to get me out? I wonder what that note said.

He uses all of his height and strength, but even then the boulder barely levitates off the ground and then falls back down, sending waves of pain to whatever can still receive it. He tries picking it up, and that doesn't work. He tries to pull me out. Unsuccessful.

"I don't know what to do," he says, deflated. He sits down on a rock, fishing a half-eaten apple from it and chews on it. He rips off a chunk and offers it to me.

"I'm okay," I croak. He gives me a warm smile, placing it near me, just in case, he says.

"When are you going to leave?" I ask hoarsely. He chuckles and looks down at me from where he's sitting.

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

At least I can die in someone's company.

* * *

 _ **Iridi Lotu, 17, District 1 Male**_

After the earthquake, Calix came out of his tent with a new scar. A deep red one under his forearm. He was dripping blood when he walked over to get breakfast. I honestly don't know how he hasn't bled to death or something.

Munching on a protein bar, he begins to brush the blade of his sword down his arm, making a shallow cut but succeeds in drawing blood. I begin to shudder as I see some of his cuts turn blue. Mom used to make me blue. Black and blue. I was so sore that I could barely sit up, and I just felt broken all over. She called me worthless. That's how I feel right now. I killed my own district partner, and for what? To be stuck with this bloody lunatic. He'll probably knife me in my sleep tonight, he can't even be trusted. Maybe I'm so much of a coward that I'll make decisions I'm barely aware of.

"Calix, I need to vent off all this steam. Can we go hunting?" I ask him. Calix lets out a dark chuckle and grabs his sword.

"Count me in." he says eagerly. I fetch my blade from inside the Horn, which seems to be growing emptier and emptier. Last night we had to dig through each and every box to find water. It must be scarce here, but if that's the case, surely there are water sources around the arena. My parched throat may be partly the reason I want to leave.

"Are you ready, Iridi?" he asks me. I nod, throwing my bag over my shoulder and following him down the steep green hill. When we get to the bottom, Calix points towards the green forest to the north of the Cornucopia, as we hadn't searched there yet. I used to be keen on exploring. At the academy, they told us that when we return home, we have to know our arena by memory and be able to describe it, showing we were committed to becoming a Victor. But now, I'm dreading having to go home. Returning to my mother is the last thing I want to do. I would almost rather die along with the 23 other people who don't make it out.

* * *

 _ **Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female**_

I saw Kyva yesterday but that was pretty much the highlight of my day. I mean it when I say this has got to be the worst eye-crossing boredom I have ever experienced in my life. At least when I was bored at home, I could make up stories in my head, or sing, or count sheep. Well, I can't exactly do that here. If I doze off during the day, another crazy Kyva Mutt could come after me. If I sing, I'll attract someone. My body is tense all the time now, I'm paralyzed by that primal fear of the unknown. It's all way more difficult than I thought it would be.

It got really, really cold last night, which forced me to pull out a match. I didn't light it all the way, just getting the tip warm enough to stop my fingers from feeling like ice.

Curious, I pull out the alcohol I got a few days ago out of my backpack. I still don't know what this is for. But I don't have any water so I take a swig of it. I've never had alcohol, and even though she isn't here, I'm sure my mom would love to lecture me about the dangers of drinking. In this case, not drinking might be more dangerous.

Out of nowhere, I hear voices. I might have just brushed it off before, but ever since the Kyva encounter, I've been way more paranoid. Which might not be a bad thing here. The voices are getting louder. I sounds like... laughing?

It's Careers. It has to be. And I don't have a weapon. The match I've been holding is beginning to slip out of my hand, but I hold onto it tighter before it falls to the ground. But looking at the match, and the drink, and the match, my body stops trembling for a moment. I may be able to save my skin for once.

But if this idea doesn't work, I'm toast.

* * *

 _ **11th-**_ **_Kean Avrett, District 10 Male- Dehydration and poisoning, Day 4_**

 **Kean had a very sweet story and was certainly capable of coming home, but even the strongest cannot survive for long without water. And dish soap pods don't help. Thank you Loki for Kean! I really enjoyed him.**

 _ **10th- Gleyn Bersond, District 4 Male- Crushed by Tower, Day 4**_

 **Gleyn started off as a pretty good guy just trying to fit in but over time his personality got lost and kind of faded due to the atrocities of the Games. You were never really one of my favorites but I didn't dislike you. Thank you Skyheart for Gleyn! :)**

* * *

 **Tributes remaining: (OMG WE ARE IN THE ELITE 8)**

Iridi Lotu, 1M- _At the Cournucopia_

Calix Livianus, 2M _\- At the Cournucopia_

Tiger Kaley, 4F _\- At the Cornwall Village_

Oakley Gunderson _,_ 7F _\- At the Cornwall Village_

Incy Vasquez, 8F _\- On the East Mountain_

Atticus Faux, 9M- _Under Tribute Tower rubble_

Citlali Kenyie, 9F- _Leaving_ _Little London_

Quincy Aubergine, 11F _\- At the North Forest_

Galvan Clearcreek, 11M- _At destroyed Tribute Tower_

* * *

 **HOLY CRAP MAIA! People are dying! Yeah, I know, I'm sad too. They really become my babies and I hold a special place in my heart for them. But alas only one can win. I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. Between schoolwork and mourning my latest dead tribute, Kirsta of District 6, I fell a little behind. Now that we're ALMOST, ALMOST in the FINAL 8 start picking who you think is going to be Victor! Who do you think will die next? Maybe placement predictions? So as always REVIEW! ;) I'll see you guys next time!**

 **-Maia**


	23. Whispers and Pleads

_**Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

Now it's the fourth day. I've been mindlessly scratching a tally for every hour that goes by on a slab of rock with my darts. On the back I drew a stick figure with a ponytail, me, fighting bigger stick figures with devil horns. That's when I realized that I'm me, and I want to live, and getting out of here should be my number one priority. My stomach is an empty pit, and my skin is beginning to push onto my ribs. I've never experienced true hunger, and dying from it certainly isn't going to get me out of here alive.

So, I need food. That's not too hard to get, right? The sun is slowly sinking, creating a faint golden glow. I should probably assume that isn't the real sun. Anyway, darkness is good, because I can hide in darkness, to find food. And based on all the animal noises I've heard in the woods I'm too scared to explore, food should not be hard to come by. I muster up the courage to walk behind the scraggly bush and into a wild, forested area behind my clearing. The sticker bushes are scraping me already. I have to shake that small stuff off, because I'm sure being dismembered by a Mutt hurts way more.

I aim my dart gun at a tree, holding it in place until I can see movement there. Trusting my reflexes, I pull the trigger, releasing the same dart I used to kill Styx. It must have hit something, because now I can hear pained moans. Luckily hearing them from an animal is much easier on my ears than hearing it from my peers. Sure enough, I hit my mark. How did I manage to shoot something on my first try? It's a shame that there were no dart guns in the Training Center, because I could have easily scored a 12 with that. But then I recall my strategy. Don't score too high, like Belle implied. It only places a target on your back.

I'm not running a restaurant, this is breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Using my limited knowledge on how to cut an animal, I reduce the chipmunk carcass to a stripped-down, bloody husk. I don't care how hungry I am. I'm not eating this thing raw. After setting the meat down on a leaf, not daring to even glance at it, I stare into the sky. My stomach is rumbling even more ferociously now. It's like it's begging me to shove that thing down my throat so it isn't as empty as the rope-making station. Lifting two somewhat smooth stones, a little figurative light bulb pops above my head. It's not really an idea I came up with myself, but something I saw from a fellow District 8 Female years ago.

I lift the rocks, rubbing them together as fast as I can in an attempt to create friction. Sure enough, after around five minutes, the rocks burn my fingertip. Perfect. I place the husk onto one rock, pressing it in with the other. Blood begins to seep out, and it's even sizzling! After an hour of this, I excitedly remove the now brown meat from the rock. I don't think it lasted even a minute.

I throw the discarded bones down the mountain, and it hits a small hill of dirt. The dirt begins to fall down the steep mountain, taking quite a few things with it, but nothing major. It could have passed off for a Mutt.

* * *

 _ **Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male**_

Is that movement in the trees? It could have been the wind, but I was trained to go with my instincts. Sure enough, once I started heading towards that very tree with Iridi tailing me, I can see a tiny little girl nestled in the tree. The tree itself is pretty tall, taller than the others. And it's sitting at an entrance to a forest. Clever, tribute, clever. That way people will walk right past her to get inside of the woods. Well, not clever enough.

I tell Iridi that I found some new prey, and he seems surprisingly aloof. I'm starting to grow tired of this boy. We're the only Careers left now. Cerys is dead. Victoria is dead. We don't know where the hell Gleyn is. There were cannons earlier, so I'm just going to safely assume it was him, and the other one is probably just some outlier that died of thirst.

We're right below the tree now. The kid is huddled in a ball, holding a glass bottle of sorts. I begin taunting the girl, which doesn't get a response from her.

"I can chuck a knife up there, Cal," Iridi tells me. He stands back and begins to wind up his arm, three knives in hand. Almost as they escape his hand, the same glass bottle the girl was holding comes whizzing down. It's headed towards me.

Almost without realizing it, I step out of the bottle's path and it smashes against Iridi. He's soaked in some strong-smelling liquid, which he's trying to shake off. I try to hold back snickers as he stares at me, annoyed. Some of the glass has punctured his skin, and he's licking his now blood-soaked arm.

"Damn it! That hurt!" he complains. I'm full out laughing now, taking pleasure in my teammate's embarrassment. I glance back up at the girl, who has pulled out a red box. I return my attention to Iridi, who is prepping to throw another knife at the girl. But the moment that knife leaves his hand, something else is being thrown, this time at us.

A match.

The moment I spot that flame coming down, it's too late to even react. Luckily, I can see that the unlucky victim of this attack is going to be Iridi. The moment it touches him, the flames are already across half of his entire body, licking his arms and charring his skin. Meanwhile, I look back up at the tree, and the girl falls out of the tree with a knife in her abdomen. I leave the dying girl behind to go help Iridi, who is my only real friend left. If he dies, I'm all alone. I don't know why, but that thought now terrifies.

"Oh, god!" I cry out as I try to tend to him as we arrive back at the Cornucopia. I had to carry him, as he's pretty much unable to do anything except groan. But when I set him down on the tarp, by the way his skin looks and how he's breathing, I know that he doesn't have much time left.

"Calix," he whispers, so quiet I almost missed it.

"Yeah?" I answer, leaned in. Iridi looks at me, disfigured and almost unrecognizable, but the last words he utters are crystal clear.

"Kick Twinkle's ass for me."

He slumps back, wheezing out his final breath.

 _BOOM!_

"Okay," I say, shocked, as the hovercraft arrives right above the Horn and plucks away Iridi's ashy remains. Now, I'm truly alone.

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

Fire. I can see fire. Fire is warm. I've had this numb, empty feeling inside of me since my own district partner turned his back on me. I thought I could trust him. I remember the first night in the Capitol he watched a movie with me when I got bored and frustrated. Petal told me that your district partner is someone sacred, someone of your own blood. And you can't betray them. That's exactly what Atticus did, and I won't rest until his blood stains my measly knife.

Where could Atticus have gone? It couldn't have been far, he was never the fastest runner. When I began to venture out of the city I was hiding in, I saw something silver in the distance. When I kept getting closer and closer, I almost jump for joy as I see my spear that was stolen from me.

My spear was gone when I woke up, so did he drop it? Why would he drop a perfectly good weapon? Maybe he dropped from starvation, or dehydration, or died of guilt! I happily lift up the spear, which feels heavier than usual. I struggle to keep the spear above my knees, so I end up dragging it behind me. I become aware after a little while that I'm making a trail behind me, but I don't really care, to be honest. Let them find me. I can take them.

The forest ahead of me has smoke coming from it. Not the amount that comes from building a fire, way more, from the looks of it. I decide to go and investigate, but my lips form a dark smile when I hear crying.

It sounds like a girl, a little girl. Her sobs are interrupted occasionally by raspy breaths, then silence, then crying again. I begin tracking the source of the sound, my spear in one hand and my knife in the other. My stomach feels like an empty pit, maybe from the excitement. I carefully comb through the ashy woods, and I notice how low the air quality is when I start coughing non-stop. But I force myself to keep going, determined to find my victim.

Hours pass and I still don't see her. She stopped screaming after a while, so I assume she passed out. But I still wander in the general direction her voice was coming from, looking every which way as I walk. As I go to step over a rock in my path, I can hear the bushes moving. Frightened, I hold up my knife shakily, and almost an instant later a rabbit pops out and looks at me with wide eyes. My breathing has become unnaturally quick as I knife the rabbit in the gut. It dies almost instantly, collapsing in a pool of its own blood. Grinning, I continue forward and eventually I find my prize, right on the outskirts of the forest. There is indeed a little girl here, and she's struggling to breathe with the knife embedded in her side. I chuckle evilly, which isn't really like me, but I don't care. This girl is helpless, and her blood is going to stain my hands.

As soon as the girl sees me, her eyes shoot open, even though it looked like she was struggling to stay awake before. I drop my spear in favor of my knife. The girl begins to cry again, but I clamp my hand over her mouth to silence her. I dig my blade into her neck, which produces an enormous fountain of blood down her neck. She struggles a little while longer before going limp, and closing her eyes.

 _BOOM!_

Now I'm full-on laughing, my side is already beginning to hurt from it. I force myself to quiet down, but I have to bite my lip to do so. Wiping the little girl's blood off of my knife, I use the remaining amount on my fingers and spread it across the bridge of my nose. I can't even stop smiling now.

* * *

 _ **Galvan Clearcreek, 17, District 11 Male**_

 _If you can keep him alive until nightfall, you're free from Mutts for the rest of the Games. Good luck!_

 _-Prosperina Dew_

I just wanted to leave and move on, but the damn Head Gamemaker is making my life hell, as usual. I don't want to stay with this dying boy. He makes me more depressed than I am already. He just lays there, half his body crushed. He won't eat any food, he won't drink water, and I don't think he sleeps. That probably explains the enormous bags under his eyes. I'm sure he's wishing for someone to put him out of his misery but unfortunately that job will have to go to someone else, or he just dies from blood loss. I feel bad for not even knowing the boy's name. I muster up the courage to at least speak to him.

"So, you're from District 9?" I ask. He looks surprised that I'm acknowledging him, seeing that he's half-dead.

"Yeah," he croaks, his voice non-existent. It's more like a raspy whisper that he tries to form into words. But my youngest sister, Lia, has a voice similar to this boy's so I can at least somewhat make out what he's saying. I kind of want to keep talking to him, but I don't want to make him talk too much.

"Is it nice there?" I question him. This time, he just shakes his head.

"Same here." I reply. "Everyone there is either starving or starved. That's why I volunteered. To get my family food," I tell him sadly. I know I did all this for my family, but a sick part of me wishes I was home with them, and not in this arena. Maybe I could have found a way to feed them. Maybe I could have gotten a promotion at my job, or gotten a new job. Here, I might not even survive, and then they will be worse off than they were before.

But all I have to do is keep this boy alive until the sun sets and it's nighttime. It already looks like the sun is dipping a little, but it will be at least another hour until that happens. The boy is on the brink of death, and if that cannon fires before the sun sets below the horizon, a Mutt might come for me before I have a chance to curse at myself. Maybe if I manage to keep him talking or at least responding to what I say, he'll hang on for just a little while longer.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I even got your name." I say sheepishly. He says something under his breath but this time I can't even begin to guess what he muttered. I ask him to repeat it again, and this time his voice is the clearest I've heard it yet.

"Atticus," he utters. Suddenly I remember that name. Atticus was the one who got the water dunked on him back in training. I kind of feel bad that I was holding back laughter when that happened to him. These Games have not been particularly kind to him.

"I think I remember you," I lie. He lights up a little, but goes back to laying in the dusty remains of the Tower.

"Isn't your partner named Kenya?" I ask again. His face goes dark for a moment before answering.

"Citlali," he corrects. "I abandoned her. She's probably by herself now, crying, with no supplies."

"How do you know?" I ask him, with a little more attitude in my tone than I had intended.

"She's kind of helpless. I could never see her killing anyone." he says glumly. It kind of sounds like his voice is coming back. Kind of.

"I see," I mumble, rubbing my chin. This produces another ten minutes of awkward silence, but I begin to panic when I see his eyelids drooping and more blood seeping from underneath the rock. I rush over to him and slap him on the face, waking him up.

"Don't go to sleep yet!" I yelp. He gives me a confused look, but his eyes are already closing again. I force them open until Atticus begins to struggle.

"What are you..." he says tiredly, completely pale now. I glance over to the sun, which is turning deep orange. Sure enough, half of it is already below the horizon, but Atticus decides not to comply. His body slumps over, and I begin to shake.

"No, no, no!" I cry. I begin shaking him, which causes him to stir. Strangely enough, yet another box rains from the sky, this time much heavier. I force it open, finding a syringe. I jab it into his arm, which jolts him awake. He stares at me with his icy blue eyes, somewhat angry. I'll bet he was ready to leave, but sadly for him, I'm a little to selfish for that.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 _ **9th- Iridi Lotu, District 1 Male, burnt to death by Quincy, Day 4**_

 **Iridi wasn't your typical One male. He came from an abusive background, but still tried his best to be the glitzy Career he was trained to be. Iridi volunteered to get away from his mother, and you're away from her for good, my friend. Thank you tracelynn for Iridi, he was a much better time to write than a generic Career.**

 _ **8th- Quincy Aubergine, stabbed by Citlali, Day 4**_

 **I came to adore Quincy as time passed. I think she was originally supposed to be a bloodbath, but I just couldn't. I wanted to keep her around a little while longer but she ended up making it to 8th. I'm sorry you weren't immediately killed by the fall, Quincy, that must have hurt. Thank you, Winter, for Quincy, I'm super sad to see her go.**

* * *

 **Tributes remaining:**

 _Calix Livianus, 2M- At the Cornucopia_

 _Tiger Kaley, 4F- At Cornwall Village_

 _Oakley Gunderson, 7F- At Cornwall Village_

 _Incy Vasquez, 8F- At the East Mountain_

 _Citlali Kenyie, 9F- At the North Forest_

 _Atticus Faux, 9M- (Critical) Under the rubble of the Tribute Tower_

 _Galvan Clearcreek, 11M- At the Plains_

* * *

 **Oh gosh, they all keep biting the dust! We're at the Final 8... er, 7. I'm super duper excited for the finale, and although these Games are turning out a little shorter than I had originally anticipated, I'm satisfied with them so far. Also, I have a question. Do you guys want Top 8 interviews, or not? I personally am not a HUGE fan of them, they kind of slow the story down, all for a chapter that virtually no one is going to go back and read. But, on the positive side, it does make for some development and another look into the tribute's life. So, it's up to you. DO you want interviews, or not? Let me know in your review. Thanks for reading, I'll see you next time!**

 **-Ruby**


	24. I Don't Like Change

**_Tiger Kaley, 17, District 4 Female_**

* * *

I wonder what it's like to be a Victor. I wonder if I get to have anything I want, and I can do anything I want. I'm kind of scaring myself because I haven't thought of Rayden in forever. It's almost like my body has turned off all emotion and focused solely on survival.

Iridi and the little girl from 11 died last night. I can't say I'm too surprised about the girl, but Iridi was a shock. I honestly thought he had what it took to at least make it to the end, but at least that's one less strong opponent to face. But it means Calix is still out there. Ever since we abandoned them I have eagerly watched that sky and hope to God that he's there. Fate had other ideas. And he's probably a hit in the Capitol since he's the strongest tribute left.

Hunger is setting in now. Yesterday I was forcing myself not to gobble down the remaining crumbs from my bag of jerky, but I left them put until this morning, when I consumed a tiny bit. I think Oakley has been taking more than she should, even though she promised she has been taking the fair amount. It's a little hard to believe her when she hasn't eaten more than a few bites over the last three days. Even when we got ice cream, it was mostly Grover and I inhaling it while she sat at the back of the cave in the fetal position.

I'm getting a little tired of this girl. All I have been concerned about is my own survival, and I don't think the girl gets that. I don't even think she cares about her own survival. She just cares about making everyone around her miserable.

"Are you okay, Oakley? You seem... down." I tell her slowly. She gets up from her curled up form, giving me a strange smile that's rather forced.

"Yes, Teila. I'm fine." she answers emotionless. Giving up, I just continue to stare at the emerald green leaves of the trees lining our little cottage village. The way the leaves sway with the wind gives me an weird euphoria. It's almost like I'm actually calm. I'm actually Tiger Kaley again, I'm not just the Four girl. Yes, I am Tiger, the awkward but loud-mouthed bitch who can never keep anything to herself and pounces on fish. What I would give to be her again, and not this empty shell that has formed as a result of the Games. At least I didn't do this to myself. I didn't even volunteer. I was Reaped. Sighing, I focus my gaze back on the leaves.

Suddenly, I hear ruffling in the trees. I physically jump, but Oakley doesn't react in the slightest. I squint my eyes to the tree I swore I saw moving, but nothing is there. Hesitantly, I give up the search and prepare to head back into the hut, spooked.

"Yah!" a girl shouts. Not Oakley. No, the girl running at me with a spear just like mine is one of the only girls whose interview I didn't sleep through. Citlali Kenyie. To be honest, I had assumed she was dead and that I slept through her face being shown in the sky. But I know I didn't see it.

She's crazily swiping her weapon at me with no precision, but the tip does slice into my shoulder. I yelp in pain, struggling with the girl, wondering where the hell Oakley is. Why isn't she helping me defeat this lunatic? On that note, _where_ is she?

I punch Citlali in the nose, causing it to shatter and blood to spew forth. She lets out a light whimper and dashes away, me holding my bloody shoulder in pain.

"Oakley? Oakley Gunderson!" I shout. Complete silence. This girl abandoned me because a simple outlier burst out on us. I knew she was useless. No matter, at least I will finally be able to fend for just myself instead of having to look after this child who is only on year my junior. And from the looks of it, all she ran off with was her weapon. She even left her backpack full of supplies leaning against the wall of our hut.

"Perfect," I muse, finding the pack and our only first-aid kit still intact. I open the white metal box, and find my holy trinity; gauze. I press the soft fabric to my shoulder to staunch the blood flow, but it just ends up soaking it in the crimson fluid. I eventually give up, but luckily, the blood clotted.

My arm is starting to tighten, as is my throat. Maybe I'm still in shock about what happened. Perhaps I can say I'm a little angry. But why would I be angry? That burden of a girl, Oakley, is gone. Once she dies at the hands of a Mutt, it'll be Calix, the girl from 8, both from 9, the boy from 11. And then I'll be all done. Out of this awful arena forever, and I'll be back home. Then I can apologize to Rayden for keeping him out of my thoughts for so long. I hope he'll forgive me. I hope everyone back home will forgive me for what I'm going to have to do.

* * *

 _ **Incy Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

I've dealt with some eye-crossing boredom in my life, but nothing could have prepared me for these last several days. All day, every day, it's the same. wake up. Drink. Eat a barely cooked rodent. Go to sleep. Wake up. Stretch. Watch the faces. Go back to sleep. And, the other day, killing someone was also squeezed ino my oh-so busy schedule. Styx's face has failed to leave my mind for more than an hour or so.

In fact, here it is again. Lurking around a tree. Now, he seems to be wearing shiny armor. Strange hallucination. Styx gets up, his blank face staring deep into my soul. Now, I'm started to get a little frightened. Why does he have a dagger? Why is he headed towards me like he's going to kill me?

"G-get away!" I stammer, rushing behind the nearest tree, shakily holding my dart gun, which I know is not going to be enough. I frantically pull the trigger thrice, with the darts burying themselves in his neck, but the boy just pulls them out, unfazed. That's when I realize that this is not a dream. This is all too real.

Tears begin to form, but I wipe them away, telling myself to be a big girl and toughen up. It's just a Mutt. It has to be a Mutt. There's no way this is actually Styx Gasket, the District 6 Male. He's in an oak casket, already on his way back home. There is absolutely no way the boy I killed is standing in front of me.

As a last resort, I pick up a somewhat sharp rock, my hands trembling as I hold it over my face in a pathetic attempt to defend myself. Styx's dagger bangs down on my rock at first, but then slices my index finger. Screeching, I bring the boulder down on his forehead, causing this fake-Styx to fall to the ground, groaning. He doesn't seem to be fully dead, so I just make a run for it. Hopping off of the ledge of my mountain, I take a literal leap of faith and luckily land in some sticker brushes that happened to be there. They feel like the same ones I came across while trekking up here. Still sharp and pointy and awful. Better than landing on the cold, hard ground.

I still may have strained my ankle a little, because I'm having difficulty running. I've knocked the wind out of me, too. By the time I've found my way out of the prickly bushes, my breath is back, and I'm running for the hills. Well, not the hills. I'm running to the Cornucopia. It may seem like a stupid decision, but there are only a few Careers left. They're probably disgruntled, tired, and in mourning for their fallen comrades. The second those suckers decide to leave, all their food will be in my empty stomach and one of their weapons will be in my hand. I'll actually have a chance in these Games.

Once I've formulated my plan in my head, however, I immediately begin to rethink. If they see me, I'm finished. And there has to be more than one, based on the faces I've seen so far, the boy from 2, the girl from 4, and the girl from 7 are all still alive. But wait. I saw both girls running with the now dead boy from 7 the first day I was here, I think. So they formed another alliance. That means the only one at the Horn is the boy.

Yeah, I think I'm going to do this.

* * *

 _ **Atticus Faux, 16, District 9 Male**_

* * *

I expected to see the boy's warm face when I woke up, but he was gone. Nowhere to be found. At first I was tremendously disappointed, but then I told myself that no one would want to be with a dying boy trapped under a rock. It's amazing I haven't died yet. But not amazing in a good way. I don't think I've ever wanted t die this much.

He left with all the food. I remember him trying to force feed me yesterday, and I didn't take, but now I'm wishing I has ingested those beef jerky strips. Half of my stomach is torn apart and the other half is just empty. My lips are also cracked and dry from no water. I think I had some in my old pack, but I lost that from being knocked out by the Mutts.

The Mutts.

The girl who abducted me. What was her name? I think it started with a C. Carry? Cara?

Cerys.

Cerys Asana. The girl from 9. The same girl I killed in the opening minutes. She could have had a chance in these Games, she was a worthy contender. If I remember correctly she scored on the higher end of the spectrum. And I think I remember her being pretty.

But now she's dead. Dead and gone. Probably six feet under by now. I recall catching a brief glimpse of the burial ceremony last year. Shortly after, a lure went around 9, saying that Ivy, the girl from last year, had not had her coffin properly sealed. So, her tortured soul escaped the confinement, and now haunts the district until the next dead girl replaced her. Well, Citlali is going to be a ghost. I hope she doesn't haunt my siblings. Audra was terrified of ghosts, so much so that she had me sleep beside her bed to "scare them off". I smile at that last thought. It's made me numb that all my mind has been occupied with is these Games. Am I not even human anymore?

I've been weak, but I've never felt this drowsy before. I'm struggling just to keep my eyes open, but closing them is a one-way ticket to death. So I force them open with my last bits of energy and what's left of my adrenaline. But I know I'm a goner when I see my dark red blood seeping from the rock. I suppose the only reason I'm not dead yet is that strange syringe the boy stabbed me with. It created an almost artificial-feeling buzz that kept me awake all through the night. That was the worst part. No being able to sleep. I collapsed at around sunrise, which is probably when Galvan Clearcreek left. Galvan Clearcreek. The boy who will actually stand a chance.

Since I'm no more than another corpse to be collected shortly, an idea pops in my head. One last idea, one last thought. A final kill for Atticus Faux, District 9 Male. Who is it going to be? Atticus Faux, District 9 Male.

Using all my might, I reach towards a jagged piece of rock, grinning. Since the arm that got injected seems to be weak, I let it do the honors first before it gives out. Digging deep into my wrist, I carve a straight line across, causing even more blood to spew out. Already feeling myself slipping away, I quickly do the same to the other hand, slumping down. Now it's really over, at last, I can be done with these Games.

At least I went out with a bang.

 _BOOM!_

* * *

 _ **7th- Atticus Faux, District 9 Male, bled out and suicide, Day 5**_

 **I'm sorry, Atticus. You did nothing to deserve what you got. I actually grew to like you, but sadly, you kind of fell from favor with me because I'm kind of a jerk :p But I still did enjoy writing about your internal struggles, your siblings, and how you increasingly starting caring about your own survival rather than always providing for someone else. Thank you, david12341, for Atticus. Have fun in... wherever tributes go after they die, Atticus!**

Tributes Remaining

Calix

Tiger

Oakley

Incy

Citlali

Galvan

* * *

 **Yeah, I know, I'm shaving down numbers quick! And I know it's sort of turned into a girl-dominated Games, it's not that I don't care for male tributes, that just kinda happened without me noticing XD anyway, so yeah. And I have news. The whole thing about the interviews was kinda 50/50 so we'll do this. Since there are only 6 tributes left instead of 8, and I kinda wanna move ahead, we'll have short interviews "fused" with next chapter. They'll probably be right before the POVs start. Speaking of POVs, I am aware there are less of them, but there are less tributes than before! And if I forced all 6 in a chapter, maybe 2 out of 6 would have something interesting happening, while the others would just be them sitting there. :/ And that isn't very fun to read, is it? Again, sorry for the wait! Debate actually just started and I've been hecka busy with that. I'll try to squeeze in a little bit of writing time whenever I can. As always, REVIEW! WE JUST SURPASSED 200! THANK YOU ALL SOOOOO MUCH! From the bottom of my heart! Truly. Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next time!**

 **-Maia**


	25. April Fool's

**Hey...**

 **this a small note I'm leaving you guys because I couldn't hold it off. I'm so sorry to say that Royal Blood will not continue. It hasn't gotten very positive reception and I don't have it in me to continue. Thank you all for your understanding.**

 **APRIL FOOLS!**

 **No, but I am sorry I'm taking forever. I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can.**


	26. Forming New Friendships

_**Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male**_

* * *

When I woke up from my mid afternoon nap, the roof of my tent was slick with large water droplets. I looked outside and saw dark and foreboding clouds that sent a shiver down my spine. It's just rain, no big deal. I have this giant metal structure called the Cornucopia to hide in. But it would get dangerous if lightning struck it. I just can't be leaning on the wall.

As I visit the edge of the rocky cliff again, I see that the tide is now somewhat close to the top. I could almost jump in if I wanted to. But that would be incredibly stupid. The water is probably so cold I would die of hypothermia in minutes.

A loud thunderclap spooks me, and I instantly make a run for the inside of the Horn. I grab all the blankets I can find and drape them over my head, shivering. I probably look like a fool back home, but I'm all they have left this year. Their mysterious private academy girl died in the damn bloodbath, and I didn't even help her. I was focused on killing the boy from 5. It's weird, I feel like I can almost see him lurking behind the trees lining the grass field around the Horn. It's just a little vision. Everyone's probably dealt with this.

What was seemingly just a vision flung a throwing knife in my shoulder without hesitation. The pain is real, not numbed like in all dreams where I got injured. A burning sensation shoots down my good arm, my throwing arm. I can't chuck a spear at this guy, so I just weakly raise up the knife I was holding and begin wildly swiping it when he comes close.

Clearly the boy wanted a fight. Getting a good look at him, he is indeed the boy I killed in the bloodbath. The same unruly red hair and slim face. Is this the body, or just a perfectly replicated version? Does he know I killed him? Is that why he's trying to kill me?

The tribute slams the butt of his knife against my forehead, disorienting me. Now he's on top of me, trying to bring his knife down on my forehead. But even with the mega-strength they probably injected this weak body with, I'm still stronger, and I throw the boy off of me, who goes tumbling until he's dangling off the edge of the cliff. He's still hanging on with his deathly pale hand, and when I look down on at the reanimated boy, I stomp on his fingers, causing him to scream loudly. I think I can even hear some bones crack. This forces him to let go, and the boy falls a few hundred feet into the water, sinking like a rock, not even attempting to save himself. I sigh in relief, turning around to see a wisp of light brown hair and a shoe heading into the trees. A kill. Perfect. I force my throwing arm to hold up a knife to send in her direction, but without warning, the boy is somehow back on the cliff and is biting my neck. Screaming, I stab the boy twice in the forehead, throwing him back in the water once more, where he stays for good. Strangely, even though there was no cannon, a hovercraft comes and plucks his broken body out of the water.

Whoever was sneaking in here is gone now. I try to get back on my feet to catch them, but my body won't cooperate. I limp my way back to the Horn to find one of the machetes gone. It was leaning against a crate, and now it's gone.

"God damn it!" I cry out to the sky. Another thunderclap sounds, almost immediately followed by a neon blue lightning strike hitting the ground outside the Horn. Even the metal making up the structure is hot to the touch. I curl up in the middle, wrapped in tarps and blood and gauze. And to think, it's only the fifth day.

* * *

 _ **Galvan Clearcreek, 17, District 11 Male**_

* * *

For the first time in the Games, it's starting raining. Not too terribly hard, though. It just creates an ethereal looking fog on the ground, which soaked my pants when I started walking in it. Now I'm cold, wet, and uncomfortable. But a little water never killed anybody, and if anything, water should be the last thing I try and avoid. Out of fun, I open my mouth wide and allow the rainwater to fall into my mouth until it's full, gulping down the drink, refreshed. I've kind of reached a dead end, there's just a heavily wooded area in front of me that blocks my path. I decide to turn around, when-

 _Smack!_

A wisp of a girl comes flying out of the trees at top speed, and we collide full force. Rubbing my head in pain, we both glance at each other awkwardly. It goes on like this for around ten seconds until the girl starts to whimper, almost escalating into a scream, but I place a finger over her mouth to silence her before she can damn us both.

"Shush, girl, shush. I'm not going to hurt you." I hiss at her. The girl relaxes a little, putting down her machete. I would normally choke this girl without a second thought, but if she made it this far, doing so might get my face in the sky, especially with that blade in her hands.

"Why are you crying like this?" I ask her harshly, way harsher than I had intended. She begins to blubber a little, wiping the snot away from her nose and the stream of tears from her eyes.

"J-just... scared," her voice warbled. "I was at the Horn... and... and I was almost caught by Calix." She exhales sharply, forcing herself to calm down by taking in shaky gulps of air.

" _You_ were at the Horn?" I inquire, somewhat surprised. "To get supplies?" She nods.

"Well, you're okay, aren't you?" I say in a sickly sweet voice, offering her some fluffy tree moss to wipe her eyes with. She declines, but seems to have appreciated the gesture, because the tiniest smile forms of her lips.

"How about this. We'll rest up until we're the only ones left besides him, and _then_ we can kill Calix." I state. I leave out the part about us being the only ones left and me having to end her myself, but this calms her to the point where she's stopped shaking.

"An alliance?" she asks me.

"More like a friendship," I offer. Her tiny smirk has turned into an all-out toothy grin.

"Let's go!" the girl beams, grabbing my hand and marching away eagerly.

"W-wait!" I stammer, "I don't even think I got your name yet."

"Incy," she chirps. I can't really say I remember her too well, but in these Games, blending in might be a good thing. Standing out in any way places a giant-ass target on your back.

Incy and I take a long walk to the nearest building, a fancy white mansion with a perfectly manicured front yard. Incy begins chopping off the heads of the bushes shaped like dancing angels, chuckling happily. A little smirk of my own forms without me realizing it. I'm going to have a hard time killing this girl.

Incy opens the door for me, and immediately a musty smell reaches my nose. Incy flicks on a light switch, but nothing happens. At least we're out of the rain. I suggest that we go upstairs to a bedroom and hide in the closet, but Incy wants to explore. She's already prancing her way into the expansive kitchen, searching the drawers for another weapon, probably for me, since my weapon situation is pretty lacking. She holds up a frying pan, looking at me for my approval. I chuckle lightly as I grip the somewhat heavy pan.

"Remember Turmeric Saucer?" I ask her. "He would have loved this, right?" Incy giggles, swinging the pan around wildly.

" _I_ love it!" she squeals, almost like a child. After that, since it was getting dark, Incy finally agreed to lock ourselves in the bedroom for the night. Incy takes the bed for herself, refusing to let me sleep in the same bed as her, so I just make my way to the large closet, bringing a pillow and a blanket with me.

"Good night," I shout to the girl as I close my own closet door, settling in on the carpet. My clothes are still soaked from the rain, so I take them all off save for my undergarments and lay them on the ground next to me. I even take my shoes off. I might actually be comfortable for the first time in these Games.

Comfortable or not, falling asleep turned out to be a problem. Incy was already snoring after a few minutes, but I just laid there, staring at the ceiling, wide awake. I keep forcing myself to keep my eyes closed but they always burst back open. Just when there's a chance I might fall asleep, blaring trumpets sound. I've almost gotten used to this faces-in-the-sky routine.

I cringe when I see Atticus Faux's face. But I kept him alive long enough for me to be safe from Mutts, right? I shouldn't have anything to worry about, right? I keep trying to reassure myself just so I can stay still enough to go to sleep. I think I finally drifted off at around midnight if my watch was correct.

* * *

 ** _Oakley Gunderson, 16, District 7 Female_**

* * *

To say that I'm freaking out would be a huge understatement. I'm completely by myself now. No Grover, and no Tiger. I think it's safe to say that I actually felt secure with them. They were like my parents. But Grover's dead and I abandoned Tiger, which I'm now seriously starting to regret.

But that crazy girl attacked us. If I had stayed, she would have killed me for sure. But would she have? I could have hidden until she left, or at least defend myself. All I have now is my axe, because I left the rest of my supplies behind running away, save for a bandage. I guess it's better than the other way around, having a little bit of supplies but no weapons. I can't kill a tribute with jerky crumbs. But at the same time, my stomach is getting more and more hollow, to the point where I even feel lighter. All I've been doing for the past half hour is search for food, but with my luck, I know I'm not going to find it. At least water hasn't been a problem with this lovely rain provided for us.

As I'm walking, a large black crow flies in my direction, squawking, and I narrowly dodge the thing. Annoyed, I try to continue forward, but it just comes back, trying to claw at me and pick at my face. As I hit the bird and try to swat it away, it wraps its talons around my bandage and rips it from my own bony fingers, slicing a cut into my left cheek before flying away.

I curse at the stupid bird before continuing in the other direction, but red blood drips onto my pants. I gingerly feel my face, which coats my entire palm in my own slick blood. _A bandage would have been great for this,_ I say in my head, chuckling a little. Instead I rip some grass from the muddy ground and press it to my throbbing face, wincing. I find myself in the middle of the tall grass plain, the same place where the Careers attacked us and Grover died. I was already uneasy when I walked into the field, but when I saw the splotch of dried blood on the ground, that's when I lost it.

To avoid screaming like an idiot, I stuff the blood-soaked pile of grass in my mouth and bite down hard on it, muffling my scream. I stumble my way out of that hellish plain, smacking into a tree. Now my head hurts really bad. Nice going, Oakley.

I make myself sit down for a moment, twirling around my axe and ripping more grass out of the ground. Just when I thought I was okay for a second, a _mole_ suddenly pops out of the ground, screeching, and bites my hand. Luckily, it didn't break the skin, but that doesn't stop me from sobbing ingloriously, just wanting to go home. I want to cook for my family again, I want to see them devour my food like hungry wolves when they all get back from the lumberyard, and to be impressed with how clean the house was. And even though I convinced myself I hated him, I want to see Father again.

I keep on sobbing like a baby, but no tears are coming out anymore. I guess I literally cried my eyes out. Now I'm just blubbering like a toddler. Looking ahead at the emerald green pastures dotted with pastel wildflowers, I stop crying for long enough to take in the scene, illuminated by moonlight. I know I'm going to die soon, so it's at least good I can still take in some beauty in my life. I continue to stare for who knows how long. Although my relaxed body tenses up a bit when I start to hear howling.

* * *

Tributes remaining:

Calix Livianus, 2M- _At the Cornucopia_

Tiger Kaley, 4F- _At the Cornwall Village_

Oakley Gunderson, 7F- _At_ _West Hillside_

Incy Vasquez, 8F- _At Hatfield Manor_

Citlali Kenyie, 9F- _At the North Forest_

Galvan Clearcreek, 11M- _At Hatfield Manor_

Alliances: The Friends (Galvan and Incy)

* * *

 **Surprise! I had lots of free time today, and good news, this coming week is Spring Break! I'm planning on doing a bunch of writing as well as a bunch of nothing, so I would expect another chapter sometime next week. Maybe even two, who knows! So... it's coming down to the wire now. No deaths today, thankfully. But now that we're getting so close, start picking your Victor... cause if you guess correctly, you get a super secret prize in SNOFS. Also... correctly predict all the placements from 6th to 1st and you get... uh, glory? I haven't decided yet. And I wanted to say, thank you all for supporting RB! I don't think I would have been here without you guys. Seriously :) And as always, review! I'll see you guys next time!**

 **-Ruby**


	27. And It's Gone

_**Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

I had crept into his closet earlier and my machete hovered over his abdomen. He could have died right there and I would have been one tribute closer to going home, but of course I chickened out. I don't know why I was so eager to accept his friendship. He's way stronger than I am. I hope acting like a helpless little girl convinced him that I wasn't a contender. I was just another child trapped in this horrific arena who made it this far solely on luck. I'm kicking myself because I chose not to kill him. That was my chance, there would have only been five left. My odds would have gone up, and I could have actually had a chance to go home.

Why am I acting like this? Why am I acting like another human being is just another obstacle in my way? Galvan Clearcreek has feelings, too, and wants to live just as much as I do. But then again, I might want to go home a little bit more if I'm actually considering killing him like and I'm not already in a coffin going home. With that thought I rise from my bed slowly, yawning and stretching. I step on the noisy floorboards, wincing as it makes a loud squeak. I just continue forward, tiptoeing. As I creak open the bedroom door, I notice that through the giant window that it's already morning. I woke up several times in the middle of the night praying that the artificial sun had risen but it was always just pitch black, with unnaturally bright stars dotting the sky. It's almost a relief I don't have to sleep anymore.

I must have woken him up. I can already hear him stirring around. I'm almost shaking now.

"Morning," he tells me. I don't respond.

"Someone's not feeling chatty today." he jokes, putting his shoes on. He leaves the bedroom and looks outside the same big window I peeked out of. The stairs are right next to him. They're right there.

"So, what did you want to do today?" he asks me. He's nearing the staircase now. Now's my chance to prove I'm not an illegitimate weakling. I can actually make my parents proud of me.

"I was thinking we could-" the boy from 11 starts to say but before he has a chance to finish I'm giving him a harsh shove. He loses his footing and tumbles down the wooden stairs. I can hear crashing, but no screams. I look away, trembling, but I risk a tiny peek when it sounds like he's reached the bottom.

Now I wish I hadn't. Because to see that mess of protruding bones and blood sent a wave of nausea over me that sent what little food in my stomach over the balcony. I curl up in a ball, praying that that damn cannon will fire and I won't have to see that awful image again.

"No," I tell myself, getting up and wiping my tears away. "No!"

If I'm going to go home alive I can't be so scared of killing. I can't avoid the fact that I've become a murderer. I'm doing it for my survival, which is my only priority. I have to face these things head-on.

The walk down the stairs was a long, scary one. He was _still_ alive at this point because a certain cannon still had yet to fire. So this boy was still hanging on, his entire body probably broken from the impact of these hard, wooden stairs. I immediately wince when I see a broken arm belonging to him and almost feel more bile coming up, but I force it back down my tight throat and make myself look at the mess I've caused. He's still taking in shaky breaths but all of his limbs are twisted the wrong way. What's unfortunate for him is that his neck isn't broken. If I just leave him here, he'll be stuck like this for hours until he bleeds out. I nearly jump out of my skin when it looks like his lips are attempting to form words, but nothing comes out. Staring dead into his eyes and feeling more confident than I ever had in these Games, I raise up my machete, determined to be the weak one no longer. Incense Vasquez is about to get another kill.

I swing the blade down onto his neck, but only dig in around halfway through it. Panicking, I almost give up and run away, but I won't let myself get worked up over a botched execution. I'm going to be tougher from this point forward, aren't I?

Trying again, I begin a rough sawing motion through the bone, cutting for dear life. I abandon that idea after a while, just resuming to bring the machete down forcefully. I nearly jump for joy when I hear that beloved cannon twenty minutes later.

I let out a deep sigh, dragging my weapon across the floor and settling down in the nearest armchair to allow them to extract this body. Before long two white-robed figure walk into the manor, walking right past me as if I were invisible, and lift up his body, leaving as quickly as they came. I look outside to see his body being thrown onto the ground and plucked by the giant claw, identical to the claw that picked up Styx Gasket. Soon he's inside the machine and flying away. I had always wondered what those hovercrafts looked like on the inside. I sure as hell want to find out while still in my body.

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

* * *

My feet still hurt from those rat bites. I was just sleeping soundly in a castle, desperately trying to get a few minutes of rest to snooze off my injury, and the damn things came full-force. One even bit me on the cheek and the whole right side of my face hurts. I can only hope that it isn't carrying some life-threatening disease. But knowing the Gamemakers and how cruel and unfeeling they are, it probably does.

But maybe in a way, I deserve it. I killed an innocent little girl without a second thought. Her family is probably grieving right now, furious at me for taking away their child. But what was even worse is that she wasn't able to defend herself. I just murdered her in cold blood.

Suddenly I hear a bunch of trumpets. They aren't the same trumpets from the faces, they're much less mechanical sounding. Almost like the instrument is actually being played here in the arena. Terrified, I scramble up the rotted stairs to the upstairs window to get a better look.

A fenced-in area that wasn't there before has appeared out of nowhere, as well as at least a dozen horses and an audience sitting on bleachers overlooking the little dirt area. I start to worry a little, as this people might not be friendly. But my castle is around half a mile away and there are many others next to it. I keep telling myself this in an attempt to keep watching what they're doing rather than hide in the closet in fear. Men are on the horses now, wearing shiny armor and holding what appear to be long cones with handles on the end. I can't really make out what they are.

The horses back up a little before suddenly galloping forward at unnatural speeds. The men on horses are in different lanes but it looks like their sticks are going to collide. A deep pits forms in my stomach as one of the men falls off his horse from the impact of the stick while the other one pumps his fist in triumph. What is the point of this game? To injure the other player as much as possible?

Someone dressed as a princess flips over a scorecard, changing the '0' card to a '1' card. Without realizing it, I begin to smile. These Mutts don't hurt anybody. They're just passive, probably set by the Gamemakers to mess with our minds a little.

Another set of horses and men come out, one dressed in orange, one dressed in green. They both extend their spear-like weapons to two women, who pull out a ribbon and tie it to the end of the poles. They both blow kisses to the knights, who wave to them before heading to their starting places. The horses charge at each other again, and soon the orange-garbed night is off of his horse and on the ground, writhing. Luckily he doesn't seem too hurt. I let out a sigh of relief as he gets up and limps away, holding his shoulder.

Around ten minutes later, two new men come out. I should get bored by this repetitiveness but it' actually quite interesting. Now almost captivated by this strange game they're playing, I notice a bunny hop onto the field. A cute, white one, with a tail resembling a cotton ball. A spectator walks towards it, probably to just get it off so the next game can start. But without warning, he brings his foot down on the poor creature, causing blood and guts to splatter everywhere. I resist the urge to sob as I scramble to my feet and make a beeline straight to the closet across the hall and slam the door, crying. That was just like what I did to the little girl. She was innocent and didn't do anything to hurt me but I killed her without a care. I even laughed afterward like a wacko. I'm going completely against my personal beliefs at this point.

It was just a rabbit. It was insignificant, it didn't affect me in any way. I was just a little spooked, that's all. I'll feel better later. I must have been watching for a long time, because the sky is already turning deep orange and once I muster up the courage to look outside, I see them packing up. The bunny's remains are still there.

* * *

 _ **Tiger Kaley, 17, District 4 Female**_

* * *

When I looked in the sky and saw the boy from 11's face, I realized that Calix is the only boy left. It doesn't bother me much, but Calix might think he already has these Games in the bag because that self-righteous kid thinks he's the only strong one remaining. Man, will he be wrong.

I just realized I'm getting kind of dirty. I had fallen down a deep trench earlier today and pretty much coated my clothes in mud. Even the diamonds on my crown headband didn't shine anymore. I threw the headgear away before long, but the rest of me is still far from attractive. Not good for sponsors, if there are even any left considering how many of us are left.

I had withstood by uncleanliness almost all day but now it's driving me a little bit insane. For the first time in quite a while I actually leave the little village I've been staying in, albeit a little hesitantly. I kept thinking Oakley was going to jump on me or something. But there was no Oakley in sight, giving me the courage to walk all the way to the nearest river, one that we passed running away from the Careers. When I finally get there, it's well past midnight and the crickets are already chirping. Even some fireflies come out. I crouch next to the river, dunking my hand in the water to test it. It's surprisingly cold, but my hand gets used to it after a few minutes. As I look at my dirty clothes again, I realize that the only way they're going to get clean is that I take them off.

Pretty much all of Panem is going to see me half-naked. The embarrassment is overwhelming as I strip off all my garments and dunk them into the river, trying to wring all of the muck out. A stream of brown water drips from my shirt, splashing into the river. I notice that the rest of my body could use a wash, too. I slowly dip into the cold, cold water, hissing at the uncomfortably low temperature I'm submerged in, but eventually I don't really feel it anymore. Or I'm going numb from the freezing water. Either way I scrub the dirt off me with a leaf. My hair is pretty gross, too. I take in a breath before sinking under the surface, washing out my short hair. But as I prepare to resurface, it feels like something is stuck. I frantically search for what could gotten caught before I find my bra strap stuck in a vine-like root. I try pulling on it, but I'm running out of air. I eventually sever the strap from the clip and it instantly pops off, but before I have a chance to retrieve my undergarment, it rushes away against the current. I almost try to go after it but it's long gone by the time I'm struggling to my feet in the water.

Sheepish and without a bra, I reach for my soaking wet shirt and struggle to slide it back on, as it's nearly frozen. Dripping wet, I quickly get out of the river, annoyed and shaken but also clean. Getting on my pants was even harder than getting my shirt back on. The soaked material keeps clinging to my flesh, making it almost impossible to pull up. I manage to eventually, but now my teeth are chattering uncontrollably. Boy, would I love to set a fire, but that's an incredibly dumb idea. I've seen far too many children get tracked down from the smoke from their bonfire and get killed all too easily. Instead I hug myself, shivering, as the temperature outside starts to drop now that the sun is gone. It took me twenty minutes to get to the river, and it's going to take me a very long twenty minutes to get back to the hut.

After what kind of felt like an eternity, I can see the little cluster of straw-roofed houses. I eagerly run back into mine, sighing in exhaustion when I crash to the ground, almost falling through a floorboard. I grab a thick quilt from a chest pushed against the wall, wrapping it around my wet body and dozing off much quicker than I usually do. Also without my bra.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 _ **5th- Galvan Clearcreek, District 11 Male, killed by Incy, Day 6**_

 **I had grown to like Galvan a lot as time went on and a lot of people seemed to as well. He was even a Victor is some people's eyes. But sadly Incy wanted another kill, and maybe if it wasn't so late in the Games you might have been okay. But some people, including me, saw a late-Games alliance as cliche and that's what was ultimately your downfall. Thank you, GreenFyre, for Galvan, and get well soon!**

Tributes remaining:

Calix Livianus, 2M _\- At the Cornucopia_

Tiger Kaley, 4F _\- At Cornwall Village_

Oakley Gunderson, 7F _\- At West Hillside_

Incy Vasquez, 8F _\- At Hatfield Manor_

Citlali Kenyie, 9F _\- At Castle Moor_

* * *

 **Baah, a death today. The next day will mark the one-week mark for the Games! I hope they don't seem too rushed or anything but consider that a coherent plan was out the window when these Games started XD I just went stuff up as I went along, I guess? Anyway, so we're getting pretty close to the end. It is in sight. I've loved hearing all of your guy's Victor predictions! Oh, and I meant to say. Maybe the same day the epilogue chapter of Royal Blood is posted, the final tribute list for SNOFs will be up. I don't have an exact date, but if you haven't already, submit a kiddo! I've gotten many wonderful submissions so far from everyone! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! And as always, review! It _really_ helps. Still in shock that we broke the 200 mark... maybe we can hit 300 by the time we wrap this up? With your guy's support I'm sure we can ;) thank you for reading and I'll see you next time!**

 **-Maia**


	28. Flurries

_**Oakley Gunderson, 16, District 7 Female**_

* * *

I started to get worried when I saw those heavy gray clouds loom over the sky. More rain, I thought. Me getting wet, _again._ I really had no cover besides a few trees, but it looks like the cave system Grover and Tiger and I took refuge in on the first day is still perfectly intact. As much as I wanted to stay away from that place it looks like I have no choice but to go back.

Much to my surprise, and even pleasure, when I begin trekking to the caves what I thought was going to be heavy rain turned out to be flaky and puffy snow. Some of it sticks on the ground right away. I always perked up when I saw the white stuff outside falling slowly from the sky. Sometimes they would cancel school and work when it snowed, and it would turn out to be a cozy and relaxing day. But my happy memories of the very snow that's falling on my head vanish when the snow starts battering on my face.

When I take off my hood, harsh howling beats into my ear. I struggle the hood back on, pressing the cloth against my face in a desperate attempt to keep it somewhat warm. I can already feel my fingers becoming icicles, and my toes are woefully numb. I'm just lucky the wind isn't blowing against me, and I can still cover some ground. I feel like it's only been a few minutes but the snow is already to my knees. Now I'm dragging my weight through the snow with all my might, hell-bent on making it to that mountain.

After a long and painful walk which included stopping to dump the melted snow out of my boots several times, I'm right below the very mountain I wanted to be at. But sadly for me, it looks like an exhausting climb is going to be needed to reach my destination. Frozen tears drop off my face, but I quickly wipe them away and carefully walk up the steep trail that I had worked my way up just fine before with some help. But now that I'm by myself, I'm skidding up the rock like a cat, hanging in for dear life onto some stray tree branches and roots. The nearest cave doesn't seem to be nearly as big as the old one but it will have to do. I step inside the damp cave, which is still somewhat dry, and I say somewhat because the floor is soaked. I don't mind it though, it's better than being outside, at least.

My pants are already getting pretty wet at this point, and I don't have anything to sit on besides the ground. I would go out and try to find at least something but snow is already blocking parts of the cave. I take in shaky breaths, trying not to cry as it begins to spill into my cave. I push myself against a far corner of the cave, screaming when I find a bone. I scoot over to the other side, shivering. The entrance of the cave is completely blocked at this point by the snow, shrouding me in darkness. I start singing myself nursery rhymes in a feeble attempt to calm myself down, but I can't get more than a few lyrics out of a song Father used to sing to me.

I shriek when some of the snow starts to reach midsection. I'm standing as high as the cave will let me to avoid being submerged. It doesn't work for very long, though. Soon I'm pressing my face against the rocky ceiling of the cave. I try one last desperate attempt to escape, realizing my foolish mistake of coming here in the first place, but I can barely move from the numbness. All I can do is curl up in a ball and try to keep shivering and think warm thoughts.

* * *

 _ **Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male**_

* * *

I grimaced as I saw the snowstorm coat the ground in a thick layer of white puff. The inside of the Cornucopia itself might even be colder than the outside. I must admit that sitting here, covered in blood, doing nothing is started to bore me immensely, but I know I have no other choice. I tried to get up earlier but ended up falling over like a coward. And I ran out of gauze yesterday, but that can only do so much. What I actually need is stitches, but haven't the slightest clue how to apply them. And with no one to help me, I'll just have to wing it and hope I don't bleed myself out.

Almost as if on cue, a silver parachute rains down from the sky, sort of blending in with the grey sky. The box nearly falls off the cliff from the heavy winds but I crawl over and save it before it tumbles off. Limping back inside, I tear open the package and find a steak. It's raw, though, which makes t kind of inedible since there's no way I'm lighting a fire in this weather. I just set the steak on a box, still sitting on it's plastic tray. Sitting criss-cross in the Horn, I let out an exasperated sigh as boredom begins to set in yet again. But the few minutes of sitting is interrupted by deep growling.

An involuntary scream escapes my mouth as a pack of vultures circles around me. Their fangs are razor-sharp, as well as their claws. I don't know why the Gamemakers are so eager on tormenting their future Victor. But it turns out the vultures aren't really interested in attacking me. Instead, they swarm the Cornucopia, one clasping its beak around a dagger and one taking the rest of my iodine. But when a bird manages to down my entire steak in one gulp, that's when I get angry.

Screeching, I cleanly slice the head off one of the vultures, causing the others to squeak in fear and frantically fly away. I toss a throwing knife at another escaping bird, and it hits the thing right in the back of the neck. Luckily they're all pretty much gone by now, save for the couple of grounded corpses. I'm glad the things are gone, but now I don't have any food. Save for some rotten fruit that will most likely poison me.

Looking at the vulture and then back my sword, I come to the conclusion that this vulture is breakfast. Butchering was never my strongest subject at the academy, I remember nearly tearing my hair out as the other boys had a perfectly cut chicken in front of them while I had a bloody mess, but that low grade only slightly lowered my average as I excelled in weapons, combat, and even some other areas of survival. Only slightly remembering the first steps, I slice the bird open and remove all of its vital organs and guts. After that, I'm stumped. Tearing out the bird's leg from the socket, I remove its feathers and hide, leaving a bloody pulp. Carrying the body with the tips of my fingers, I wrap the mess in aluminum foil, dreading the moment I have to cook that nasty thing.

I wonder why those humanoid Mutts haven't come back to torment me yet. I know it's only been a day but the anticipation is killing me. Every time I hear even the slightest noise I jerk my head back to see if they've come back to finish me off. If I killed the boy from 5, the girl from 5 should be paying me a visit sometime soon, right? It's just a question of when. Not being able to let my guard down at any point is something I've started to get used to. I can't wait until this is over. I won't have to think about the Games ever again in my life.

* * *

 ** _Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female_**

* * *

My eyes burst open, and I start extending my arms and yawning. I wrapped myself in this thick quilt I found late last night as the temperature started to drop. I must admit, being in a stone castle isn't the best option to stay warm, but I didn't have the energy to go and find someplace else. There's even a fireplace here, but even if someone won't see the fire, they'll see smoke coming from wherever the chimney is. Do castles have a chimney?

My throat has started to dry out. I was getting scared when I noticed that I was down to the final sips of my last canteen, but lit up when I saw the snow outside. I can just eat the melted snow to my heart's desire. The flakes themselves are quite thick, and almost the size of a cherry. They splat on the ground, stacking and stacking and stacking to form a layer of snow. After around five minutes, it begins to fall less gracefully and is whirling around, greatly reducing visibility.

By now I think it's safe to say that a blizzard has started. I didn't really worry at first, I had actual shelter, although the battering on the ceiling worried me slightly. The horses and men didn't even show up today, which was a disappointment, but I don't see how anyone could sport in this weather, much less survive.

 _BOOM!_

I jump out of my chair as I hear that awful cannon again. I press my face against the window as I see the hovercraft extract a body from a cave, picking them up like a ragdoll. The aircraft whooshes away, vanishing in the castle-filled skyline. Fear begins to peak in my stomach as I notice that the snow has piled all the way up to the door. I rush downstairs and slowly crack open the door, but the moment I do, snow bursts through the tiny crack and it gets all over the floor. Cursing, I retrieve my backpack and spear, accidentally leaving behind my dagger in the room I was residing in. I consider going back for it, but at this point I'm waist-deep in snow and it could fill up the entire house. I force the door open, pushing against the wind, and find myself in a harsh flurry.

Pushing my way through the snow, I sigh in relief as the snowfall stops after only an hour or so, and I head to another stone castle sitting atop a hill, untouched. Shaking, I open the door of the house, but I instantly scream in terror when I see five skeletons laid out on the floor, and another on the couch. Two of them are wearing crowns, and the others are wearing glasses. I can't tell if they're fake or not, so I bound up the stairs to avoid the image, finding myself on the top floor of this new castle, where I can hear faint giggling.

I try and tell myself to toughen up, and that everything will be just fine. With that cannon earlier I'm in the Final Four tributes. There is a one in four chance I'm going to go home, that I'll be able to live on my own out of the orphanage. My life was sad and gloomy before and it's almost better now that I'm in the Games.

I actually have a small glimmer of hope, I can make a better life for myself. But I still have to kill everyone else to win. Or maybe they just all kill themselves and I can get off easy. But what was so bad about killing? I killed someone, and I still feel like I have emotions. Maybe I'm the only sane one left. Maybe I'm everyone's best choice for a Victor.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 _ **Oakley Gunderson, District 7 Female, 4th, Hypothermia, Day 7**_

 **I always liked Oakley, even though she was sort of the weak link in her group. She never gave up even towards the end, despite her natural fears of the unknown. This girl was actually going to place much lower, but I didn't want to do that because I had grown to like her a lot. She will be missed. Thank you IlluminatingSpirit for Oakley, and I sincerely hope you continue with your own SYOT!**

Tributes remaining:

Calix Livianus, 2M- _At the Cornucopia_

Tiger Kaley, 4F- _At Cornwall Village_

Incense Vasquez, 8F- _At Hatfield Manor_

Citlali Kenyie, 9F- _At Castle Moor_

* * *

 **ANOTHER death today! It's getting harder and harder to let my babies go... but we're in the TOP 4! I am so excited :D but also kinda sad that the story is gonna end soon. I dunno, I've really come to adore it. I've been reading some of the reviews lately, and I know some of you have differing opinions in terms of Victor, but please note that I haven't even picked one yet XD Choosing one might come into play... later. I have something planned that will help me make a final decision when there's just two left, involving the readers, so stay tuned! As always, review! ;) I'll see you guys next time.**

 **-Ruby**


	29. Feast On

_**Tiger Kaley, 17, District 4 Female**_

* * *

Waking up gradually, I tenderly wipe the sleep from my eyes, yawning. Now, rather than lying in a pile of ice and snow, I'm in a puddle of water. I guess I slept through it, but the blizzard quickly died. Now everything is just a slosh-y, melting mess, but at least the temperature has risen a little. I take a look outside in the morning light for what feels like the hundredth time. I wonder if I will ever get out of here.

My wounded shoulder starts to sting again, and I look over at my wound to see that it has become infected. I cry a little, but then shake it off, thinking that there has to be infection medicine in my first aid-kit.

I crack the kit open, and much to my horror and surprise, the first aid kit is bone-dry and empty. I could have sworn there was at least some gauze in there, but somehow, there's nothing. I'm starting to get the Gamemaker's hint just as an announcement comes on in the arena.

"Good morning tributes! I trust you all slept well?" Her dumb question is met with awkward silence but she just continues forward anyway.

"Splendid! Now that all of you are up, you may have noticed that we sneaky Gamemakers did a little something." the woman giggles.

I grimace at this statement. If my supplies are gone, it's a safe guess that everyone else's supplies were taken, too. At least we're all in the same boat.

"Yes, we took all of your stuff! If you had any food, it's gone. If you had any medical equipment, it's vanished as well. The only thing you still have are your weapons, because we wouldn't be cruel enough to take those away, too!" A nasty laugh fills up the entire arena, scaring off all the birds. A pit in my stomach forms as I realize what I have to do.

"So, we're going to have a feast, ladies and gentlemen!" she exclaims. "Now, I'm all sure you know how a feast works, so here's when it's going to happen. Today, the eighth day of the 110th Hunger Games, at _noon,_ " she emphasizes, "and if you don't know how to tell noon, just look when the sun is at its highest point."

My head jerks up to the sky, to see that it's still barely peeking above the trees surrounding the huts. I have a few hours, at most.

"Please know attendance is not mandatory. Good luck, tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The weird woman's voice ceases, leaving the birds to endlessly chirp. A feast. Just the thing I was dreading. I maybe would have been a bit more optimistic if I had my buddies to fight with me, but they're dead and gone. There's only four of us left, one of them unfortunately being me. I've tried to stay in higher spirits but it feels like a literal rain cloud is always hanging above my head.

I have a feeling Calix is still at the center, given he's probably too much of a chicken to go hunting on his own, but that doesn't mean he's not ready for a fight. Lucky for me, I have a spear. I can use my good arm to chuck it at him before he even knows what's going on.

Nevertheless it is a pretty scary situation. If I mess up at all, _his_ spear is going to pierce my body. I'm going to be the one to die. But it doesn't have to be that way. I scored pretty well in training, didn't I? I'm good with a spear. I can send Calix Livianus's face into the sky.

I decided to take a 2-hour nap before heading to my fate. After all, it could be the last time I could any sleep in my life. Snuggling back into my cozy hut, wrapped in a sleeping bag that got sent my way late last night via sponsors, I try to keep my eyes closed long enough so that I don't notice my throbbing shoulder.

...

Rising for the second time today, I almost begin to regret my decision to sleep, because now the sun is nearly on top of the sky. My teeth begin to involuntarily chatter as I get up again, tying my boots and zipping up my jacket. I nearly forget my spear, silly me. Holding my weapon and trying not to let my legs shake too much, I begin my journey to what save my life or kill me. I so wish that I didn't have to go, but the pus coming from my shoulder can't be a good sign. I'm starting to lose my new-found confidence in the fact that everything is going to be just fine, because Calix scored a freaking eleven. I'm strong but he's stronger.

My heart sinks as I'm now in sight of the tight formation of trees that surrounds the very place I started the Games at. My heart nearly stops as I hear a cough, and all-too familiar cough, if you can call it that. It's more like clearing your throat. The exact way Calix does it. I put my balled fist in my mouth to prevent myself from screaming out loud, and soon find myself nibbling nervously on my nails. It isn't _quite_ noon yet. I can wait here until I'm more... prepared.

* * *

 ** _Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female_**

* * *

Tributes don't always have to attend feasts. It's just an artificial attempt to drive all the tributes together for some extra blood and gore. What was left of my food has been taken away but I was going to have to find some more anyway. I searched every inch of this house and all I found was musty, inedible fruit that would do more harm than good on me. Still in my large armchair, the same one I fell asleep on, I take my mini machete and decide it's time to hunt for food.

But I regret it the moment I open the door. Because a knight in shining armor is standing there, armed. And I know he isn't here to save me.

Quivering, I hold up my machete and attempt to scare it away, but it lunges forward, causing me to dive out of the way to avoid being skewered. I barely shield my face with my sword as it brings its own weapon down on it. I know I'm not going to win a battle of strength, so I just drop my machete and try to trip the Mutt so I can retrieve my weapon. Kicking the knight's ankle as hard as I can, it stumbles for a moment, allowing me to scoop up my weapon. As the silver Mutt circles me, prepared to attack yet again, I desperately try and look for weak spots, but I'm running out of luck and time. Its entire body is covered in tough armor, and my measly machete probably can't pierce it or even make a dent. Feeling defeated, I just crash to the ground, exhausted, with this knight on top of me with its weapon raised. That's when I notice something. The knight has raised his head. And between the helmet and the steel chest plate, I see the same dark complexion of my short-lived ally. Even the tiny scar on his throat. In one last attempt, I roll out of the way before he brings the sword down, but still manages to slice deep into my right shoulder. Screaming in agony and powered by adrenaline, I rise to my feet unnaturally fast dig my blade deep into his neck.

It lobs off like a lump of butter.

Horrified at what I've done, I watch as Galvan's head falls from his neck, and his decapitated body crumple to the ground. The urge to cry is almost painful, but I remember my resolve. Don't cry over deaths. It will only make you weaker.

But my heavily bleeding wound is something to cry about. My own slick blood is pumping from it, forming a puddle around me. Luckily, after a few minutes, it reduces to thin streams down my arm rather than rushing rivers. But I've still lost a dangerous amount of blood. I don't know if it's my brain trying to trick me, but I feel weaker.

The dead Galvan was wearing a blue sash, wasn't he? I go back to the mutilated corpse and lift it off his chest. It's splattered with blood but it isn't too bad. I press the cloth against my arm, hissing, as I realize that I'm going to need water to treat this. But are there even any rivers around here?

I quickly recall the little stream by my old mountain home. I had to step through it to get across. If those bastards haven't already dried it up, I can wash off this mess. If I remember correctly, it's only around an hour walk, and I even pass the Horn on the way. I briefly consider going to the Feast but decide against it. In my condition, that's a death sentence. I make it to my river fast enough, smiling as the same crystal-clear water is still there. I obliviously dunk my shoulder in, but scream in pain as the ice-cold water licks my wound harshly. I make myself hold it underwater for a minute, numbing my arm, but most of the blood soaking it is now washed off. Shivering, I pull my arm out, rubbing my wet shoulder as I put my thin jacket back on. Noticing a dry patch of grass, I crouch in it, allowing myself a moment to rest. But this is short-lived as I rock hits my head. Yelping in fear, I look up to find the source, and almost go running in the other direction as I see that the mountain has become extremely unstable. Several large boulders are teetering, almost looking like they're going to fall on me. Running in away from it might seem like the right thing to do, but being in the tree _above_ it sounds safer. As I lift myself up into the tree after many failed attempts, I sit and stare at the large, greenish rock that hit mem, which is nestled in my hand. I wonder if these silly feast will just kill everyone and I can go home.

* * *

 _ **Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male**_

* * *

I eagerly awaited the Feast I was promised, and I was not disappointed. Two tables rose up, one with a table filled with a literal feast, and one containing four bags, marked _2, 4, 8,_ and _9._ After applying soothing ointment to my wounds, the curiosity in my decided to peek into the other' bags. But as soon as I did, I was shocked, much to my annoyance. I try again to open the 8 bag but I receive another zap. Backpedaling away from the other bags holding my own, I head over to the food feast, taking a large bite out of an apple and waiting for my fellow competitors to make this Feast actually interesting.

After around twenty minutes I'm not disappointed. A spear comes hurling in my direction, hitting the table and knocking a roast turkey to the ground. I quickly turn in the direction of the spear, to see my former ally, someone I have not seen since the interviews, a very scared-looking Teila Kaley.

Teila begins to tear up when she sees that her weapon missed its mark, and I'm already attacking the girl, with a sword in my hand. She defenseless now, just weakly shielding her face with her hands.

As I raise my weapon to end her, she suddenly swipes up a nearby tree branch, and whips it in my direction. Stinging pain shoots across my face, and I wipe up the blood from my cut as I punch Teila in the nose. I can even hear the cartilage break as she falls to the ground, defeated, and ready for me to kill. Proving to everyone in 2 that I haven't "softened up" I sink my blade into her throat. Tiger's fingers fumble at the sword embedded in her throat, but once I remove it she slumps to the ground, blood seeping out of her mouth and even the corners of her mouth. It doesn't take all that long for her cannon to fire.

 _BOOM!_

After around three minutes a hovercraft comes, plucking her limp body from the fields. I chuckle a little as I notice that her spear is still somehow buried in the side of the Cornucopia. I decide to leave it there, for a reminder to everyone, including her pathetic family, or her failed attack.

At this point I believe that there are only two other people in the arena left, and I expected to end it all here, but Teila was my only visitor. And since they obviously don't want me having their bags, they just anti-climatically fall back into the ground, leaving the feast table behind. Grabbing a dinner roll and shoving at least three more in my mouth, I start to realize how easy going back home is actually going to be. Sure, this Feast was supposed to end the Games and allow the future Victor, me, to go home, but all I have to do is a little tracking. And that shouldn't be too hard considering the luck I had before.

Out of nowhere my left ear is greeted with loud screams, coming from the west. I almost lick my lips with anticipation. The screams continue, loud and wretched. This may be the moment I have been waiting for the whole Games. The final kills, and then I'm home-free.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 **4th- Teila "Tiger Kaley, District 4 Female, stabbed by Calix, Day 8 (Feast)**

 **Teila wasn't your typical free-spirited mermaid from District 4. No, this girl was Reaped, and she was pissed about it. She made a statement throughout her whole Games by spit-fire, determined, and unique. I always had an easier time writing her. Her alliance was cool. Don't listen to those Careers, I liked your guy's Triple Entente a lot.. but Tiger was always one of my favs. Thank you, Cat of Flame, for Tiger. She did very well!**

Tributes remaining:

 _Calix Livianus, 2M_

 _Incy Vasquez, 8F_

 _Citlali Kenyie, 9F_

* * *

 **Yay, a feast! But someone died :( ohh! We're in the FINAL 3! I think it's safe to say that the finale is coming in the next chapter or so. Maybe the chapter after the next. We'll see! I am so excited! The end is in sight, folks. Stay tuned! :D**

 **-Maia**


	30. Rocky Road

_**Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

* * *

The screams in the distance are probably attracting the other tribute as well, but I'm going to get there first. I'm going to get these last two kills, and then I'm done. I'll get to go home, I'll get to start a new life for myself, I'll be a Mentor alongside Petal. I never could have wished for this in a thousand years. Me, a Victor. It's surreal to think about, but I have to do the dirty work first if I want to get out of this arena for good.

Sloshing my way through melted snow, my lips curl into a grin as the shouts start to sound closer and closer. I think it's coming from the mountains, the super steep ones I couldn't bring myself to climb. Evergreen trees line the bottom of the mountain, with enormous boulders pushed against the trunks. Now, whoever was screaming is crying. They won't be for much longer.

The walk is turning out to be longer than I thought. What if I don't get there in time? What if they beat me there, kill them, and then send me to my own death? No, I can't think like that. Only optimism will get me through this.

Yet another parachute falls from the sky, gracefully landing in the palm of my hand. It's a rather large box. I open it to find a brand-new pair of sneakers, along with puffy socks to replace my threadbare ones.

 _For the long walk there. You can do it Citlali! -P. Balty_

I quickly slip off my old boots and slip on my new footwear, sighing in pleasure as the soft material on the inside cradles my weary feet. Now with higher morale, I continue my journey, spear in hand, any thought that I won't make it long abandoned. I see the sky beginning to turn darker and darker, until it gets its usual pretty sunset, the same sunset I have been seeing for the past eight days. I'll probably have mixed feelings about sunsets afterwards.

I don't know why, but I begin to shake violently when the mountain is in sight. Maybe I shouldn't do this. I can just hide until the other one dies. I don't have to face this head-on.

 _No, Citlali Kenyie. You came this far. End it now,_ I tell myself, making my wobbly legs continue forward, moving almost like a robot. Soon enough, the person's wails sound right ahead, and I'm quite surprised to be staring a pile of rocks and not a wounded tribute.

What I'm not surprised to see, however, is the glaring eyes of the boy from District 2, holding a sword. The urge to tell myself I'm so screwed rises, but I quickly swallow it, raising up my spear defensively.

* * *

 _ **Calix Livianus, 18, District 2 Male**_

* * *

There she is. The last thing in my way. She's a petite girl, rather pretty actually, it's almost a shame she has to die. The poor girl even holds up her flimsy spear like she thinks she can defend herself, but I quickly start attacking. I swing my sword in the girl's direction, hoping to slash her stomach but only end up brushing the pole of the spear. Whizzing around, I try the same tactic yet again, but only end up getting denied. She wants to play tough? Okay.

I bring my sword down on her spear again with all my force, pushing the blade down on her spear again, with the girl barely able to hold her weight against me. She dodges out of the way again. This is when I start to get angry. This is taking far too long, but hey, the Capitol wants a good fight.

But without warning, the weak girl buries her spearhead in my leg, jamming it in further for good measure. The stupid girl can't even fatally injure me, she's probably hoping I'll bleed out from this. Instead, I yank out the spear, throwing it to the side and tackling her, dropping my sword. She yelps in fear, struggling and struggling as I punch her in the face _hard,_ causing blood to splatter from her mouth as well as a few teeth. She moans in pain, almost looking like she's going to give up. I feebly reach for my sword, but find nothing.

I keep on reaching blindly, until I just get off the girl and try to find it myself, spotting it in the grass a few feet away. The sky keeps getting dimmer as dusk overtakes the arena, making visibility lower. I twirl around my machete, ready to end the girl, but that's when both of us hear creaking, coming from somewhere. And a huge dust cloud comes out of nowhere, shrouding the area.

Even in the darkened arena, I saw that jagged rock escape the high reaches of a tree, smacking into an extremely unstable boulder and causing dozens of others to tumble down.

I frantically search for the tribute I was just about to kill, and see her struggling to get up, still unaware of the rocks falling. One hits me right in the head, causing me to go blind for a moment. Yet another one hits me, and before I can even react showers of them are pelting me, cutting into my skin and bruising me. I eventually fall to my knees after my legs give out, but this only doomed me further. Soon half my body is crushed. A few minutes later my chest is under the boulders.

And before a large, pumpkin-sized rock collides with my skull, one thought forms in my head.

 _Screw these Games._

 _BOOM!_

* * *

 ** _Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female_**

* * *

It worked. It worked! A cannon fired, another one at my hands, this time super quick and not gruesome at all. They were just crushed by rocks. I'm not aware of who died from the impact, I looked away and saw a pile of fallen rocks and no tributes, and then a cannon sounded. I saw both of them trying to avoid the landslide before I shielded my eyes, but they're gone. If they ran away, surely I would have been able to see them running in the plain below my mountain. But no cannon, either, nor any trumpets of Victory. It's just painful silence, with me being up in a tree, refusing to come down out of fear. What if they're just playing possum? Maybe they're trying to get me to climb down the tree and then take me out while I'm not looking. It has to be what they're doing, because they wouldn't just let the other one run away. They have to still be here.

Now the sun has dipped below the sky once again, and this time, a pretty full moon comes out, almost illuminating the entire empty arena with its unnaturally bright rays. I'm expecting to see the usual faces pretty soon. I see the first as I stare blankly at the somehow-lit castles dotting the area.

 _Calix Livianus, District 2_

 _Teila Kaley, District 4_

So the boy I killed was the massive hulk from 2, Calix. That's almost a relief. I would have been done for if I had to fight that trained killer. So if the tribute left isn't Calix, who is it? Whose face have I not seen for the past several days? Lyndon, Astelle, Henerik, Lizereth, Gratiana, Cerys, Turmeric, and Kyva died the first day. I go through each individual district in my head, recalling when they died, but it's when I get to District 9 that I realize who is under the rocks.

Citlali Kenyie from District 9.

Citlali is weak, right? I think she only scored a 5 or so. She's from District 9. They haven't had a Victor since Petal Balty. She's around my age, too, so no one is outmatched. Does she even have a weapon? Probably not. I keep asking myself all these quizzical questions as my heart rate increases rapidly, almost dangerously fast, to the point where it feels like there's no oxygen in my chest.

My breathing becomes shallow as the rocks begin to move. Fainting for half a second, I fall out of the tree and land on a flat rock, wincing as I land on my wrist, straining it. My eyes are struggling to even see straight as the very girl I am destined to face throws heavy rocks off her, almost with monster strength. She's bleeding and battered, but that look of blood lust in her hazel eyes causes me to gulp nervously as I clutch my small machete. No, no, she should be dead. Why is she alive? Why is there yet another obstacle thrown at me? I miscalculated, the rocks should have killed her, too.

That's when I realized I royally screwed up.

* * *

 _ **Eulogies**_

 _ **3rd- Calix Livianus, District 2 Male, crushed by landslide, Day 8**_

 **Calix was a freaking badass. At the beginning he was your pretty run-of-the-mill brutal Career, and a lot of people disliked him because of that, but I LOOOOVED him. His development throughout the Games was so realistic and fun to write, he was a strong boy from 2 but also realized how tough the Games can be on your own, no matter how good you are with a sword. Thank you so much CelticGames4, for Mr. Livianus. I will NEVER forget him!**

Tributes remaining:

 _Incense Vasquez, 8F_

 _Citlali Kenyie, 9F_

* * *

 **Welp, you were probably expecting this to be a finale XD I apologize. But you all know what's coming next chapter. After the final showdown, one of these lovely ladies will be crowned Victor! So here's the thing... I still haven't chosen xD yeeeah... so that's where my royal readers come in. I am going to set up a poll (setting it up right before I post this so it may not be up RIGHT away) to ask who you want as Victor. Now, keep in mind that the decision isn't going to be 100% based on votes, but maybe 50%. That will help be choose. FYI, it's a blind poll. No one will know the results but me. Another thing that will help are pitches from aceswims and tracelynn themselves. I was originally going to give you some questions but I think you can do it yourselves ;) The finale will probably be posted after I get all the votes in, I've actually _written_ the chapter of course, and I've heard both pitches and had time to reflect on it. Good luck to the both of you! I'll see you guys later for the finale! Almost done kids, just hang in there a little while longer!**

 **-Maia and Ruby**


	31. Finale

**Well, this is it. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

Completely mixed emotions coursed through my foggy mind as Citlali pulls out a small pocket knife. She has a knife. I have a machete. I have feeling this isn't going to be pretty. I was so hoping the both of them would get crushed under the rocks and I would be done with this forever, but fate had other plans. And if I mess up here, it's all over. All my hard work for nothing.

Citlali attempts to start running at me, but her leg buckles and she collapses. That should have been when I attacked her but I couldn't get my feet to move. I just stayed glued to the ground, petrified in fear. She wobbles her way over to me and almost immediately begins to attack, but she's doing it wildly and without precision. I feel a little better that Citlali isn't any more skilled than I am. I might actually have a chance.

Citlali sinks her small knife into my calf, much to my surprise. Tears prick out of my eyes as I try not to start sobbing. She's jamming it in further, tearing apart the muscles in my leg. I push her off me, which doesn't prove to be difficult with her light frame. She falls to the ground, landing right smack on a sharp piece of rock. She starts to rub her punctured arm, off guard for a slight moment. I use this chance to try and bury the machete in the back of her neck, but she swings her good arm around and hits me on the nose. I cringe as I reach up to touch the bridge, whimpering as I find blood on my fingers. It's only a little bit of blood, Incy. It's just some blood. It won't kill you.

She takes another chance, grabbing me by the arms and slamming me into a tree. Staying here isn't safe, the area is too full of rocks and trees for me to trip on. As Citlali relents for a moment to reach for her knife, I kick her right in the crotch. The girls falls over, shrieking, and I take this moment to make a _run_ for it. Carefully stepping over all the jagged rocks and into the open plain. I didn't even know I possessed this speed, but I guess I am running for my life.

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

* * *

Where does she think she's going? The coward just decided to run away instead of facing me like a real woman. She's sprinting away into the plains, heading towards an open area.

I don't waste any time in running after her, but it almost feels like I'm running on clouds in these shoes. This gives me short bursts of energy where I feel like I'm actually starting to close the gap between the girl and I, because she's actually in reach, I could just grab her long brown ponytail and kill her here. But soon, fatigue sets in, and I force myself to stop for a moment, allowing her to disappear into the fog that has now formed.

After the pain in my side has subsided, I start lightly jogging forward, reaching a circular, fancy-looking courtyard, decorated with ornate fountains, street lights, and perfectly kept hedge bushes. But a look of horror forms on my face as the crystal clear water pouring from the fountain starts to turn pink, and then clear red, and then dark crimson. The color of blood.

As I backpedal away from the bloody display, I find myself bumping into a person. It can't be her. She wouldn't change her direction like that. But when I turn around, I almost want to scream my head off as I see the face of Atticus. My dead district partner.

But he isn't the only one. A whole crowd of other people, dressed just like Atticus in silver armor, are standing right in front of me, their eyes grey and lifeless. I start shaking uncontrollably as I see the little girl I killed, Quincy. Right next to her is Astelle Landers, a bloodbath victim. To the left of her is Henerik Sarafian, another casualty of the opening slaughter. Every time I look at a new person's face their name pops almost immediately in my head, which is strange, because I've never been good with names.

Now they're all advancing on me, pushing me further and further back until I smack into a pole, shaking uncontrollably. I roughly wipe my tears away and look up gingerly only to find them all gone. Vanished without a trace.

 _It was just a dream,_ I tell myself. _Just a dream._

The blood from my wound starts to clot, much to my relief and joy. I waste no time in rising to my feet and continuing to search, even in the low visibility of the fog.

* * *

 ** _Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female_**

* * *

Not being able to see three feet in front of me gets on my nerves, and after a while, causes anxiety to form. Citlali could jump out on me at any time, and I would have no clue. All I can count on is the head start I got on her, and just hope she's still trailing.

I start walking staring at my feet, which I constantly attempt to correct because I _cannot_ be off-guard. I can't even relax until I finish these Games. I force my gaze upward, looking into the thick fog. But as shriek as I see a silvery chest plate right in front of me out of nowhere, and slowly back away as the fog in the arena dissipates, revealing around two-dozen kids in a tight circle formation around me.

I'm involuntarily taking in big gulps of air, at the verge of hyperventilation. I focus on one specific kid's face, noticing the pale features and unruly hair that seems all-too familiar. As I realize it's Lyndon, I try my best to suppress my scream, biting my lip so hard it begins to bleed. But that does almost nothing- soon I'm shouting in terror. I only realize a few seconds later that I've given away my location.

Scrambling to my feet, I try to escape this nightmare, only to run into another body. This one is tall, with fiery red hair going in every which way. I try heading in the opposite direction, but only run into yet another child. This time they aren't wearing any armor, and look like someone I feel like I just saw.

 _Citlali!_ I cry in my head horrified, and she almost looks scared for a moment, but quickly starts growling and slaps me in the face, sending me flying into the ground. The entire left side of my face goes numb, and as Citlali fumbles for the knife in her belt, I scoop up my blade and thrust it at her, piercing the Nine girl's hip. Her scream is loud and blood-curdling, and she responds by grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging on it forcefully.

Before she manages to pull some out, I relax my muscles and drop to the ground, my machete clattering. She stabs into the grass, missing my arm, but I quickly have to use my weapon as a shield, at the risk of my skull being fractured by the knife.

* * *

 _ **Citlali Kenyie, 16, District 9 Female**_

* * *

I keep swiping my knife at this girl, and every time I think I hit her, she just dodges out of the way. Frustrated and tired, I head-butt the girl in the nose, causing her to screech. She rolls to the side, gripping her sword and narrowly avoiding getting her fingers cut off. She's panting, almost like a dog, her blood mixing with her sweat. If I were less exhausted, this would be a great time to just end her, but I can't get my feet to move.

"Why... should I let _you_ go home?" I spit at her, breathing heavily in between my words.

"I kind of don't want to die," she retorts, sticking her tongue out at me.

A grimace forms on her face while struggling to get back up, using her machete as a make-shift cane. I start panicking as she finally manages to stand up straight. I have to get up, too, or I'm finished. Using every last bit of strength left inside me, I manage to shakily rise, but I yelp as my arm wound begins to flare up again.

Now she's rushing at me, like a bull. I hold out my knife at her, as if it's actually going to do anything except give me one last feeble attempt to defend myself. She's getting closer now, with her weapon raised menacingly.

I wince at extend my arm outward at the last second, expecting to just impale air, but I start laughing giddily as I see my knife in her collarbone, blood already pouring out and dripping down her chest. She lets out a light mewl, stumbling back, but when I notice a searing pain in my midsection, I nearly want to scream my head off as I see her machete embedded in my chest.

I couldn't feel a thing at first, but now it's the only thing I feel at all. Frantically I pull the machete from my chest, hoping in vain it'll help somewhat, but it only makes the blood flow even harder. The girl pulls out my knife from her skin, hissing, as she falls over on me, her breathing shallow and labored. I might have been okay, but when that girl fell onto me, she knocked out the only wind I had left.

* * *

 _ **Incense Vasquez, 16, District 8 Female**_

* * *

This awful wound makes it so difficult to breathe, and all I can do is wait for these bastards to come get me. I almost forget for a minute that I've just won the Hunger Games. But I already feel a mixture of my blood and Citlali's own blood pool around me, soaking into my clothes. I begin to weep softly as loud trumpets sound in the arena, making me shriek in surprise.

"Incense Vasquez of District 8, you are the Victor of the 110th Hunger Games!" two women with high-pitched voices say in unison. Their names escape me for a moment before they both suddenly pop into my foggy mind. Aurelia and Julia.

Just as I'm on the verge of passing out, a harsh blue light invades my eyes, jolting them open. I start freaking a little as I'm locked into place, but I still don't notice I'm literally floating until the entrance hole in the bottom of the hovercraft seems to get closer and closer. Once I'm inside, I squeeze my eyes shut to avoid the harsh lighting of the room I'm in. I gag when I see Citlali's dead body next to me being taken away into a separate room, while I can tell the doctors are looking at me in disgust from my condition. A lady dabs a wet cloth to my chest wound, which starts to sting harshly.

Just as I'm ready to ask if I can go home, a needle is sunk into my arm without notice. I almost don't object or struggle as my vision fades to blissful black.

* * *

 ** _Eulogies_**

 ** _2nd- Citlali Kenyie, District 9 Female, killed by Incy, Day 9_**

 **Citlali was not originally going to make it this far. Neither was Incy. But over time this girl really grew on me and I came to adore her, just from her perseverance and determination. I was leaning towards Citlali by the time it was the Final 4 but started to like Incy better. And Incy won the poll (I'll open up the results after I post this.) I feel really bad that she came so far but didn't win, but she constantly went back and forth. Fun fact- she was originally going to be a bloodbath, but I just couldn't. She was too good. Thank you, aceswims, for Citlali. I'm sorry she couldn't bring home the win.**

 _ **Victor- Incense "Incy" Vasquez, District 8 Female: 4 kills, Styx Gasket (6M) Galvan Clearcreek (11M) Calix Livianus (2M) and Citlali Kenyie (9F)**_

 **Incy! At first I didn't like her all that much because she seemed like a know-it-all but as she progressed through the Games she applied her knowledge to her situations and came out on top. I love Incy. This girl is a Candlewax Queen, a bookworm, and an all-around awesome tribute who used her wits and went with her instincts. Another fun fact: Just like Citlali, she was going to perish in the bloodbath, but I'll admit to myself that a plan I had was pretty much gone by the start of the Games XD Congratulations tracelynn, thank you for Incy, I'm happy she's going to go home!**

* * *

Final Placements:

 ** _24th- Lyndon Orange, District 8 Male_**

 ** _23rd- Astelle Landers, District 10 Female_**

 ** _22nd- Kyva Ruun, District 6 Female_**

 ** _21st- Henerik Sarafian, District 12 Male_**

 ** _20th- Cerys Asana, District 2 Female_**

 ** _19th- Turmeric Saucer, District 5 Male_**

 ** _18th- Lizereth Onne, District 12 Female_**

 ** _17th- Gratiana Brindle, District 3 Female_**

 ** _16th- Danylo Sepia, District 3 Male_**

 ** _15th- Styx Gasket, District 6 Male_**

 ** _14th- Tyssa Woods, District 5 Female_**

 ** _13th- Grover Ridley, District 7 Male_**

 ** _12th- Victoria Rochas, District 1 Female_**

 ** _11th- Kean Avrett, District 10 Male_**

 ** _10th- Gleyn Bersond, District 4 Male_**

 ** _9th- Iridi Lotu, District 1 Male_**

 ** _8th- Quincy Aubergine, District 11 Female_**

 ** _7th- Atticus Faux, District 9 Male_**

 ** _6th- Galvan Clearcreek, District 11 Male_**

 ** _5th- Oakley Gunderson, District 7 Female_**

 ** _4th- Tiger Kaley, District 4 Female_**

 ** _3rd- Calix Livianus, District 2 Male_**

 ** _2nd- Citlali Kenyie, District 9 Female_**

 ** _1st- Incense Vasquez, District 8 Female_**

* * *

 **(sniff) so... we're all done! I honestly never would have guessed in a million years that I would have finished this story.. but I did! Thank you all so much for following Royal Blood, even when it was crappy XD you're all sooooo supportive and nice, it just makes me smile. Thank you to each individual creator for taking the time to submit a wonderful tribute for me, I hope I did them justice. Congratulations to tracelynn! :D I guess all that's left is to make a few post-Games chapters? And then onto SNOFS reapings... my goodness. The final cast has been chosen and will probably be posted to my profile later tonight. :) I am also going to open up the poll soon if you wanna go see. Well... I guess all that's left to say is... onto SNOFS!**

 **Thank you so, so much,**

 **Maia and Ruby**


	32. Victory Ceremony

_**Incy Vasquez, 16, Victor of the 110th Hunger Games**_

* * *

When I finally came to, the first thing I felt was a throbbing pain in my head. But when my hand flew to it, I was relieved to find it smooth and not smeared in my blood. My fingers lightly brush my chest, where nothing remains of my horrific wound, just a faint scar. Same with my arm.

The first thing I wanted to do was get up and talk with someone, anyone, but my waist is strapped down. Struggling, I try to wiggle out of the tight restraint, but to no avail. Almost a few seconds later the straps suddenly release, as if they knew I had woken up. I sit up in bed, tearing off the thin paper nightgown lying on top of what appears to be a cleaner version of the arena uniform. Same purple shirt with the crown emblem, same tight yoga pants, just without the blood of my peers and my blood alike all over it.

An Avox man silently walks into my room, carrying a tray containing a bowl of soup, a glass of water, an a bread roll. Not much, but considering I've been living off almost nothing for more than a week, this is a good start to getting to eat like a human again. The mute servant picks up my discarded paper robe off the floor. My first instinct is to thank him, but my mind soon flies all the way back to the pre-Games that took place a century ago. They get really frightened if you even acknowledge them. So, I keep my mouth closed as he leaves without a sound.

I take a tentative slurp of my soup, savoring the warmness of the meal, until the door bursts open without notice, nearly making me spill the bowl. Behind the door are two faces I never thought I would see again in my life, faces I thought I had long abandoned back when I stepped on that hovercraft. The faces of my escort and my beloved mentor, Belle. The escort is charging at me like a bull. I still feel guilty I can't remember her name.

The crazy Capitol woman, still with her hair swirled up, nearly tackles me to the ground, giggling wildly.

"Did you miss me? I missed you. Oh, I'm so glad you're back!" she squeals, stroking my hair. I awkwardly push the plump woman off me, chuckling.

"Eurydice, you say that as if there was a chance she wouldn't return," Belle says dryly, slowly walking over to me and entrapping my body in a tight bear hug.

"Belle," is all I can say as the two of us embrace, and before it goes on for too long Belle pats me on the back and releases me from her grip.

"How do you feel?" she asks, concerned. "Are you sad about the others?"

"I don't know why I would be sad, I barely knew any of them," I say coolly, running my fingers through my hair. Belle just sighs, opening the door she came through.

"That's a lot better than I could have asked for. Now, Incense, we're going to get you ready for the Victor's ceremony. It's just answering some dumb questions and watching a recap of the Games. Act like your happy to be there. Put on a happy mask." she informs me. I just nod, walking through the door and down a large, blank hallway. Several nurses pass us, until we reach a sun-lit room. At a table in the corner sits a small woman wearing a dress glittering with jewels. Once she notices my presence, her cyan lips break into an enormous grin. It takes me another five seconds to recognize her as my old stylist.

"My darling," she says happily, kissing me on the cheek. "I'm so glad you decided to come back. I haven't gotten to style outfits for a Victor yet, and I'm happy to have you as my first!" She plops me down in a chair, skipping her way to the opposite side of the room and pressing a button, revealing an expansive closet. She pulls out a black bag with a hanger sticking out, and shoves it in my face, telling me to change into it.

Slowly stepping into the changing stall, I frown when I see that it's a somewhat revealing dress made of soft pink, silky material. It's a challenge to slip on, and I'm relieved when I finally manage to do it without ripping the expensive-looking fabric. When I step out for the stylist lady to examine it, she awkwardly tells me it's on backwards, earning me another trip to the changing room. The second time I emerge, she looks satisfied.

"Perfect! Now, let's do your makeup and hair. That could definitely use some work." she lectures. My prep team appears out of nowhere, pulling out drawers filled with brushes and combs and gels of every kind. I thought I had left this nonsense behind, but I guess some things never change. I spent the next three and a half hours listening to them babble about nonsense, while occasionally nodding my head as if I actually care.

"And then Kora said she _swore_ she ordered the blue curtains, but for some reason they showed up green. She kept blaming the store but who messes up the _color?!_ " I giggle lightly at this comment, spoken by the short, plump lady who looks like a strawberry. After this the ladies stop their work, declaring that I am presentable to the world.

"The ceremony is in ten minutes! We have to go _NOW_!" my stylist cries, pushing me out the door harshly and leading me by my wrist down another hallway. We finally reach a red door, leading to a concrete room with a glass tube in the corner. My heart sinks a little as she tells me I will be rising into the interview hall. That's exactly how I went into the Games. I'll bet they do that on purpose to scare us. But I can't let them get me scared, what I'm actually dreading is this damn interview itself. Especially the Games recap.

"Good luck, sweetheart," she whispers to me. "See you when you leave." I squeeze her hand, thanking her, before she lets go and the glass door snaps shut. This sight is all too familiar, rising up as your stylist and the Launch Room disappear. _But this isn't the Launch Room, Incy, you're done with the Games, idiot._

I'm in complete darkness for a few seconds, but neon lights invade my vision as the deafening applause does to my ears. I see thousands of colorful people cheering for me, whooping, and clapping. Aurelia Polishire waits around ten feet away from me, motioning her hand over to me.

"And here she is, ladies and gentlemen, the Victor of the 110th Hunger Games, Incense Vasquez!" Aurelia shouts jovially, triggering thunderous applause. I nervously make my way over to the ornate throne next to Aurelia, smiling timidly. The host pats the plushy seat of the chair, asking me to sit.

"So, so, Miss Vasquez, congratulations!" she tells me. Happy mask, Incy, happy mask.

"Please, call me Incy!" I say, false sincerity dripping from my words. The crowd cheers, chanting my family-given nickname. Once Aurelia quiets them down, she feeds me a question.

"Before we take a look of your journey to Victory, can you tell us if you ever thought you would make it out?" she asks sheepishly. The crowd bursts into laughter, and I let out a forced laugh.

"I have to admit that I didn't," I say as loud as my voice will let me, "I have no clue how I did it."

Aurelia smiles at me as a large projection screen flickers in front of us, revealing a District 8 emblem. I notice the lit-up crowd, and examine the area until I see a giant screen above me, and several sprout out of the walls.

"Well, now we'll get to see all the magic again! Roll the film!" she exclaims, snapping her fingers as the movie starts. I gulp down my urge to scream, digging my fingers into the velvet cushion to prevent myself from running out of this interview like a child. But I stay put as the camera shows what appears to be a condensed version of the Reaping program I saw on the train to the Capitol. Everyone looked so alive, but now they're all dead. I know it isn't my fault that happened, but when it switches over to District 2's Reaping, I trip on that thought.

 _His death was my fault,_ I tell myself, and as I see Styx, Citlali, and Galvan flash on the screen, I grimace. The fact that they're all in a wooden coffin, cold and dead, is _entirely_ my fault.

Now it's going to the chariot rides. I giggle for the audience as I see myself riding, dressed in that mess of fabric. I see Lyndon waving slowly, and I even start to tear up as he starts waving straight ahead and I have to direct his hand back to the crowd. The training goes by fast, too, but the program focuses extra on me at the edible plants station. Then all the scores are shown, which earns applause. I force myself to look away when it shows Citlali's face. I don't really care about the others as much because I didn't know them, but Citlali would be sitting in this chair if it weren't for me. After that it fast-forwards to the interviews, where each tribute only got a couple of seconds focused on them, and the music swells up as it shows my full interview. I smile as I see myself before the Games, so innocent-looking and young. My interview was in no way memorable, which is the way I like it.

The music starts turning suspenseful as the movie shows the tribute stepping inside their tubes. It shows the point of view of the female from 11, as the corner text indicates. It shows every excruciating second of the countdown. I remember how scared I was. I make myself look away as Lyndon stumbles off his platform and blows up to bits. I didn't look then, and I'm certainly not going to look now. After that the gong rings, and all hell breaks loose. The boy from 4 chases the girl from 10 up the stairs and spears her. Poor little Kyva is killed by the female from 2. I focus my gaze on the ground as I hear more screaming, pleads, and war cries. The moment it all stops, everyone starts clapping and cheering over the slaughter of these children. I nearly want to throw up as I look at the dismembered body of the girl from 12 and Turmeric's slashed throat.

Luckily, after that, it mainly focuses on an alliance of three kids, the girl from 4 and both from 7. They sprint as fast as they can up to the mountain, where they take refuge in a cave. I see myself running for my life and stopping once I get to my cozy forested hill. I watch the pair from 11 break up in the evergreen forest. I see the boy from 10 travel into a small city-like area. The rest goes by in a blur as the first faces show and the Careers slaughter the boy from 3, earning him a place in the sky the next day.

Day 2 goes by in a blur until I see the Six boy get attacked by the outlier alliance. The girl from 7 pushes him off a mountain to his doom, but after tumbling down the rocky slope, he somehow gets up, wandering in a daze over to my hill. I would love to just close my eyes until this part is over but the bright lights on my face are there so the audience can see my pure expression to my first kill of the Games. It takes everything I have not to let the tears spill as I jam the dart into Styx's forehead and let him bleed out over the course of two hours. I let out a sigh of relief as his cannon finally fires. Later that night the Careers track down the poor girl from 5 and finish her off.

On Day 3 they made an announcement I mostly ignored, saying that the two captured tributes in the "tower" can be rescued for a prize. I didn't think it was worth it, so I didn't bother to go, but the boys from 10 and 11 decided to take the risk and started travelling in that direction. Meanwhile a fight breaks out between the Careers and outlier alliance, resulting in the death of the boy from 7. The girl from 1 tries to kill Calix but fails, getting herself a knife to the head in the process. After that the 10 boy dies of... something, and the tower falls over for some reason, crushing the Four boy to death and severely injuring Abacus, if that's his name.

At this point, the girl from 11, who seems to be setting up some kind of trap, is caught by the two only Career boys left. They start taunting her, which earns them a bottle of some liquid flying from the tree and into one of the boy's head. At first it doesn't seem to injure him except for a gash in the head, and sends a throwing knife in her direction, but almost seconds later the little girl flicks a match down at him, causing the boy to go up in flames. While the boy is screaming bloody murder and roasting to a crisp, the girl is falling from the tree and lands on her arm. I hang my head in pity as I notice that she doesn't die immediately. But around the next day, Citlali of all people comes to finish her off. But it clearly wasn't an act of mercy, given her manicial laughter after she made her kill. Maybe she wasn't as weak as I thought.

Then it goes to the boy from 9 killing himself to escape the pain of being crushed. The poor boy had been abandoned by Galvan, who had stood by him so he could collect his no-Mutt prize. Shortly after the program skips to Galvan and I allying for a brief period. It then jumps again to me pushing him down the flight of stairs and finishing him off. I nearly want to hurl at the mess I created. Luckily it skips to the other tribute's activities after that. The movie then shows the snowstorm, which leads the exhausted girl from 7 into a cavern for safety. Sadly, the cave fills with snow after a few hours, and she's trapped. Her cannon booms ominously soon after the cave fills to the brim.

After that it's the Feast. I'm glad I didn't go. I had a suspicion that Calix was waiting for us there, and I was right. Soon enough Teila Kaley of District 4 stumbles into the clearing, and soon falls under Calix's blade and swiftly dies. After her body is plucked from the arena it again fast-fowards to me all the way on my mountain, devising my trap. I'm guessing they're moving this quickly because they don't want to audience to get bored. I'm climbing up the tree to avoid the rocks, a rock of my own in my hand to trigger the trap. Now I'm fake screaming to attract Calix and Citlali. Calix arrives a few seconds before Citlali, but they still start fighting. I panicked, because I could have easily allowed Calix to kill Citlali and _then_ set off the trap. But I was scared, I guess. Calix is completely crushed in moments, as is Citlali, who emerges, bloodthirsty.

As I watch that finale again, I don't think I realized how close I was to actually dying. But my machete pierces her stomach deeper, and as I fall onto a dead Citlali, the screen fades to black, showing my name in fancy golden letters.

"Wow! What a show!" Aurelia exclaims. Long, drawn-out applause drowns out my first attempt to respond. Once they calm down, I plaster another fake smile on my face.

"Yeah," I say happily. "I feel so lucky."

"That's because you are!" she replies excitedly. "I don't now what I would do if I was in the Hunger Games!" The crowd laughs heartily at this, but this remark just annoys me.

 _Like you would last two seconds in the arena,_ I think in my head, trying not to say those very words out loud, in front of everybody.

Our exchange goes on for a few more minutes, asking me what my plans are, if I'm excited for mentoring, even if I had fun in the arena. I'm relieved once Aurelia asks the last question.

"You're our first Victor since the 99th Games in a while to score under a 6; how do you feel about that?" she asks, leaning in. I nervously drum my fingers against my knee, trying to conjure up an acceptable answer.

"It's amazing. I mean, pretty much everything was against me in that arena, and I just feel so honored." That's all I tell them. For some reason, I don't feel like telling them I was holding back on my private sessions. The Capitol gets mad at anyone who doesn't play by their rules. Aurelia gets up from her chair, smiling.

"Now, please rise for President Fiorella Aloe, everyone!" she shouts.

Soon after Aurelia and the entire audience rises to the left, and I look to see the President of Panem, Fiorella Aloe, walking towards us with a silver crown in her hand, dotted with glittering rubies. My heart sinks as I realize how similar the rubies look to drops of blood. She gently places it on my head, flashing me a fake-looking smile.

"Congratulations to Incense Vasquez on becoming the Victor of the 110th Annual Hunger Games. We salute you for your victory. Congratulations." President Aloe declares in a booming voice that earns deafening applause, and I'm told that I'm finished and to direct myself backstage. There, Belle is waiting for me with open arms.

"You did wonderful, sweetie," she says warmly, hugging me tight. I withdraw after an awkward minute, as Belle suddenly jerks back.

"I forgot! There's going to be a huge crowd trying to get pictures of you. I'll clear them up, meet me outside in five minutes." Belle instructs me. I nod at Belle in agreement, hanging behind as I watch her disappear behind the double doors, catching a glimpse of the rabid crowd waiting outside in the large lobby of the building. After what I assume is five minutes pass, I start walking over to the door, when I'm suddenly pinned to the wall by a woman with teary eyes. I cry out weakly as her bony fingers dig into my shoulders. She must have been sneaking behind the hallway, but I swear I didn't see or hear her.

"You took away my Victor," she hisses, "you took away my Victor, you bitch." I vaguely recognize her as the District 9 Mentor, Petal Balty. Now I understand why she's holding me against the wall, claiming I stole Citlali from her. I would be angry, too, but instead of arguing I just slip out of her grip, somberly walking down the hall without a word, while Petal still stands there, steaming.

When I open those doors, sure enough, Belle was waiting there for me. I decided not to tell her what happened as we walked together to the train station, our escort tagging along excitedly. I have nothing to pack or bring with me since everything I had was left behind in Eight. The exact place I never thought I was going back to. It's going to be a long ride home.

* * *

 **This chapter was kinda needed. I know I made it sound like the story was over, but we still have a Victory tour chapter to do! After that I'll get working on the SNOFS Reapings.**

 **-Maia**


	33. The Victory Tour

_**Incense Vasquez, 17, Victor of the 110th Hunger Games**_

* * *

It's actually strange seeing my fingers without candle wax on them. They're so smooth to touch, actually. It's strange seeing myself look almost like a doll at all times, but as Eurydice says, a Victor always needs to look her best.

I realize I'm starting to annoy Eurydice and Belle as I force my hands to stop rapping nervously on the polished table. My breakfast sits in front of me untouched, the spoon still inside the unbroken bowl of oatmeal. Even the little raspberry garnish is still intact. Part of me doesn't want to ruin this cute little art form, but it's mainly that I don't want to pit in my stomach is too painful. Belle notices me spacing out, and clears her throat.

"So, are you excited, Incy?" she asks me, smiling. I look up at my Mentor, returning a smile just as fake.

"Yes, I'm excited to go and say hi to the families of everyone who died in that arena," I say sarcastically, stirring my oatmeal. "I can't _wait._ "

"I know it's hard. But the Tour itself isn't even two weeks. And you hardly knew the tributes from District 12." she informs me. District 12 is our first stop. Where we will be visiting the families of Henerik Sarafian and Lizereth Onne. I am slightly relieved I barely remember the two of them. I recall Lizereth a little better, but only because her abysmally low training score, a 3. Lyndon scored lower, but he was blind.

A tinny voice tells us that we are approaching the outskirts of District 12. I press my face up to the window, taking in the forests blanketing the outside of Twelve. Several picturesque mountain ranges peek above the tall trees, overlooking the crystal clear lakes. This place would almost be a good vacation spot if it wasn't the poorest District in Panem.

As we pull into the train station, guarded by swarms of Peacekeepers, I sigh, somehow already exhausted. I don't know how the Districts do this every year. I know that last year, the Victor from 5 was a terrible public speaker and even generated a few laughs at this somber event. Oh, gosh, what if that's me? What if I make a fool out of myself?

Surprisingly, when I stepped onto that concrete stage, overlooking a somewhat meager crowd of coal miners, the words just slipped out naturally, even though I had barely memorized the words and phrases the Capitol prepared for me.

"I am honored to be here today, and to recognize the fallen tributes of these Games and their families. I send my regrets to the family of Lizereth Onne, the District 12 Female, and of Henerik Sarafian, the District 12 Male." I mutter, my voice amplified. I glance over to the pedestals set up for the families. A mean-looking woman is the only one at Lizereth's area, and I'm almost shocked to find not a single person for Henerik. Holding back tears, I continue my speech in a monotone voice. I nearly want to jump for joy as the final round of applause is given and I dash offstage.

The dinner reception was okay. It was nice chatting with the Mayor of District 12 and her daughters. They even took me back to their large house and showed me their expansive library, which I nearly drooled over. The eldest daughter, Marianne, even let me have a few books to take home after I got engrossed in them, and I was forced out of the library for taking too long. I stepped back on that train the next morning in a surprisingly good mood.

But it didn't last. Next was District 11, and I did in fact know people from here. In fact, I killed their only shot for a Victor in years.

I started off the speech okay, but when I made eye contact with a little girl crowded on Galvan's pedestal with a least a dozen other kids and their parents, I started stuttering and barely made it through the rest of the speech without fainting. After dinner I was shown the various crops District 11 grows and given a tour of the orchards. When I thought I was actually starting to relax, we were rushing out of the area because one of the Peacekeepers spotted a tracker jacker nest. I am deathly afraid of those insect Mutts, I'm just glad there weren't any in my arena. By the time we left District 11, I was shaken and uncomfortable.

District 10 flew by in a breeze, but I nailed the speech almost perfectly, and I even got to pet some farm animals in the evening. But as that day came to an end I realized where I was going to go next. District 9.

The second I stepped onstage, I was met with a chorus of boos and jeers. I tried my best to quiet them down, but a Peacekeeper eventually had to fire a gun, startling both me and the crowd. I wipe my sweaty palms on my silky yellow dress, exhaling sharply.

"Thank you, citizens of District 9."

As I almost robotically went through my speech, I noticed that only one woman stood at Citlali's area, and she looked around 60 years her senior. I would probably conclude that she's her grandma, but her and Citlali have almost no similar traits, the two probably couldn't be more different. I had already forgotten what Citlali looks like, but luckily a large banner of her face hangs above the lady. But when I look at the family of Citlali's partner, who is named Atticus, I nearly want to cry. All I can see are three sniveling children, holding each other tight. The oldest-looking one is covered in bruises, poorly concealed by makeup. I knew before I even finished that I had to at least talk to these children.

Afterward, I asked the Mayor if she knew where the children lived.

"They're orphans. So they'll live in the district orphanage around fifteen minutes away from here." he says gruffly.

"I would like to visit there," I request. The Mayor shoots me a dirty look, but then sighs.

"So chivalrous. Whatever you say." he mumbles. The trip was somewhat unexpected, so I had to wait ten minutes for a ride to even show up. But it was so worth it after that ride was over to step out of that vehicle and burst into that building, off-put by the melancholic atmosphere. I ask the lady at the front desk for the three children related to Atticus Faux, and she starts scanning a clipboard.

"That would be Audra, Calic, and Levinia Faux," she tells me, showing me their names on a piece of paper.

"Yes, them." I say clearly, folding my hands on the counter. This lady looks like she's trying not to laugh as Eurydice's bird-shape headpiece falls onto the floor, causing some kids to come and tear it to pieces.

After a careful walk up the creaky stairs, we reach a rotted door, one of the many doors in this seemingly endless hallway. She opens the door, revealing three children huddled up in the corner, trying to gather some warmth. Several other children are in the tiny room with them, playing or sleeping. I slowly approach the scared children, extending my hand.

"Hi, guys," I say softly, not really knowing what else to say. The oldest, named Audra, squints her eyes at me.

"You're Incense Vasquez," she hisses.

"Yeah," I reply, rubbing my neck.

"You killed by brother," Audra says glumly, refusing to make eye contact.

"No, no, no," I whimper, trying not to upset her. "I didn't. I swear. Your brother took his own life. He was very, very brave." Levinia and Calic perk up at the mention of their brother, but Audra is still grimacing.

"That doesn't change anything, he's still dead." she retorts. "Addy was supposed to come home and let us all live in his big Victor's Village house. Now we're all stuck here." I sadly hang my head, feeling defeated, but as a sort of last resort, I open my bag and fish my hand around it, looking for something, anything, to give them. All I can find are the three books I brought from District 12. I pluck one book from my bag, a non-fiction one about different breeds of dogs. All the kids come scampering up to look at it. One little girl, probably no older than four, says she can't read.

"I'll read it to you," says another, older girl, patting the girl on the head. I pull out the other two, giving them both to the rabid children who are now looking at the book I gave them. I hand some other shy kids in the back a book about fabric design and one about baseball. I'm glad I brought picture books, one of my regular reads would bore them to death.

Eurydice tells me we are out of time. I quickly say goodbye to all the kids, feeling guilty I didn't have anything more to give them. I'm ushered back into the vehicle, where I'm rushed back to the square for the usual dinner. As I'm picking at the roast bird on my plate, an idea pops in my head. Maybe I can see those kids again. If the Capitol doesn't think it's too ridiculous, it just might work.

Home was skipped and saved for the end. Next was District 7, which wasn't my favorite because the crowd just couldn't stay quiet for me, leading to several scary gunshots. I was terrified for District 6, because Styx's family was there. Sure enough, his angry parents were there, waiting for me, never taking my eyes off me the entire speech. Every second that went by felt like a million years when you're in front of the parents whose kid you killed.

District 5 was nothing special. Tyssa's parents while blubbering messes, but at Turmeric's pedestal stood his own parents, as expected, but also a sobbing girl who looked around his age. Is that his sister? Or maybe his girlfriend? Either way, he's dead.

The fish district was a little pissed for having had a tribute who made it so far but didn't win, but other than that Four was fairly easy. I also managed to memorize my speech by then. District 3 was also pretty forgettable.

But then we were onto District 2, Calix's home. I hope they aren't too angry at me here. I was doing it for my own survival, everyone knows that Calix would have won if my trap had somehow failed. But nonetheless Calix's family looked like steam was coming out of their ears, and Cerys' stand contained several elderly women who were crying silently. I even froze halfway in my speech, much to my dismay. Luckily at that point where were only a few sentences left.

The last district was District 1. I didn't know either tribute at all, I even forgot their names until they were given to me. Weirdly, five ballerinas were at Victoria's pedestal. They almost looked like swan girls. At Iridi's area stood a scary-looking woman, a tired looking man, and a sniffling girl who looks like his little sister. Bythe time I'm at District 1 seeing all these sad and devastated families is making me feel worse and worse, thank goodness it's almost over.

...

When we got to the Capitol I was tired and pale. They had to apply five coats of eye makeup to conceal the bags. That idea from when I was in District 9 is still lingering in my head. A travelling library doesn't sound too crazy, right? It would just be me travelling from district to district giving children books who don't have any, and I would pick them back up and give them new ones eventually. I pitched the idea to Belle, who liked it a lot, even suggesting it to Eurydice. She said that with some help, we could make it happen.

"That's going to get me through this damn party," I say dryly, making Belle chuckle for once. The party is uneventful. I mostly dance with random Capitolites, who desperately try to bring me home with them as if I'm some kind of toy. But Eurydice comes to the rescue, saying I need to "retire to bed." On the way to my bedchambers we pass a giant library, which I try to stick around at, but my attempt is unsuccessful.

Soon I'm being taken up to my room, and I realize the clock is half-past one in the morning. A lone Avox stands in the room with me, who I instantly dismiss. She shuffles away, leaving me alone in my room, where I collapse on my bed, almost instantly falling asleep.

The next morning I wake up gradually, almost happy to see an actual ceiling above my head. I check around my bed and outside, but soon catch myself being weird again and acting as if I'm still in the Games. I told my doctor about this, and he said it was something all Victors go through. I felt guilty, because a while ago I sleepwalked into Candelabra's bedroom and screamed, waking her up and officially making her afraid of me. I wish all this didn't happen, but I have to keep telling myself that it's better than being dead.

We almost immediately pack our stuff and say goodbye to the Capitol for the time being, at least until the Games start again. I don't think I realize how close they actually are. I'm going to be a Mentor for the first time along with Belle. Part of me is excited for some reason, but I'm also despising the fact that I'm going to have to sugarcoat the imminent deaths of two children. District 8 has never had back-to-back Victories, and I don't think I have the skill to bring someone home, not in my first year.

After a two-day trip we finally got back home to Eight, where a cheering crowd awaits, much different than the sour mood of all the other districts. Even my family is waiting for me. Candelabra is crying as she lifts me off the ground with tremendous strength. Maybe she isn't scared of me anymore. Wick just gives me a quick hug, twiddling his thumbs. My mom and dad have never looked so happy to see me. I'm so happy myself I even ignore Lyndon's lonely dad throughout the entire much happier speech. I even ad-lib the end.

"I can say I've never been so happy to be home. Thank you, District 8, for always supporting me." I say, ending the Victory Tour on a happy note. The audience chants my name as I trudge offstage, pumping my fists. The event I was dreading for months is finally over.

I thought these next few months were going to be hell, but only if I make it that way. If it were up to me, I would live life with meaning, and not become an empty shell. And much to my relief, that's the last thing I'm planning on doing with myself for the time being. I don't really have a choice. It's not like 23 people died for me to be here.

* * *

 **The REAL end! I wanted to do a little Victory Tour chapter for Incy. I can either start SNOFS Reapings or I can do an epilogue chapter. Up to you guys. :) Thank you all for reading, and please review! I want us to get over 300 by the time the story ends! :D If there isn't another chapter of this, thanks so much for following RB and supporting it. I'll see you guys next time... perhaps on SNOFS.**

 **-Maia**


	34. Mentoring, The End

_**Incense Vasquez, 17, Victor of the 110th Hunger Games**_

* * *

"Be sure to bring books so you don't get bored, honey." Mother lectures.

"And eat well, you hear?" Father instructs, poking me in the collarbone. Candelabra straightens the sparkly green necklace that went with my sea green frock I'm wearing to my first Reaping as a Mentor.

"I know, I know, I will," I say tiredly. I hear a knock at the door, and Mother opens it to reveal Eurydice grinning from ear to ear.

"Is our darling ready?" she asks in a high-pitched voice, clasping her hands together.

"She sure is," Mother says proudly, patting me on the shoulder. Everyone swarms me before I have to leave with an impatient Eurydice, with Father sniffling and Candelabra ruffling my hair.

"Bring a kid home," Candelabra says sadly, in a pretty purple Reaping outfit of her own. She turned 19 a few weeks ago, meaning she is safe from the Games for life. That relieves me immensely; the last thing I want to do is watch my own sister die, knowing I couldn't save her. But Wick is my age and still has his name in that bowl several times, but the chances of him being picked are slim to none. But then again, I got picked and my name was in there as many times as his were.

Lost in thought, I pull away from my family, who still have an hour or so before they have to attend the Reaping. When that door slams in my face and Eurydice tugs me forward with her bony fingers, tears begin to well in my eyes.

I couldn't stand being away from my family now. I missed them both terribly during the Games and now whenever I'm doing the travelling library. Thank goodness for Belle. I don't know how to drive and I don't really want to know, but she has been helpful enough to escort me wherever I need to go. I just got back from District 5, where I dropped off new books to the children of District 5's orphanage while collecting old ones. I gave them more books than usual because I'm going to be away for mentoring for the next two weeks or so. I might have dreaded that awful Victory Tour but this might be worse. The Reaping day is _today._ Today the first two kids whose deaths I will have to sugarcoat, and then the next year and the year after that. At least I have Belle with me. That might be the high point of my trip to the Capitol.

The square is just a peaceful car ride away. I notice the windows fogging up, so I start mindlessly drawing hearts on the glass, earning me a swat on my thigh from my strict escort. I just zone out the rest of the ride, sadly noticing the kids playing in the streets in the slum. Those poor children probably have their names in the ball countless times to just feeds themselves. I wonder if I will get a slum kid or someone like me, from the merchant section. I really hope I don't get a young child, I don't have it in me to watch them die.

We arrive to the square after a while, where I'm dumped into a small room with a TV, as well as my favorite Mentor, Belle Chiffon. We embrace at once, until I'm sat down in the TV in front of her.

"What are you watching?" I ask quizzically, eyeing her small TV.

"Just some Capitol talk show. They have endless amounts of tapes of old Games, but I just can't watch them," she says glumly, eyeing the immaculate box containing every Hunger Games to date, most likely. I bet my Games are in there already. I'm surprised it hasn't been placed on my chair, just for me.

The Reaping came before I even knew it. It's a grey morning, a depressing morning, as all the kids in Eight wait nervously as Eurydice rambles through her speech and the boring video plays. It seems like all of this happened just yesterday, when in reality only a year has passed. I still long for the days before the Games. I may have been unhappy with being holed up in that shop all day, but at least I was still an innocent, knowledge-loving carefree girl. I'm only 17 but I'm more mentally worn than any teenager should be.

Eurydice is heading over to the bowl now. My heart feels like it's pumping out of my chest. I'm more nervous than I was at my ow Reaping. She fishes her hand in the bowl, stirring the names around. Finally, she grasps her fingers around a slip, grinning madly as she unfolds the piece of paper and reads the name printed on that small space.

"Adela Chambray!" she cries out, triggering a wail from the 18-year-old crowd. Soon a tall girl emerges from the roped-off pen, her bright green eyes welling with tears. I almost want to comfort this poor girl, but she's one year older than me. I quickly realize how awkward this is going to be.

As Adela steps onstage, trying not to sob, our escort eagerly skips over to the boy's bowl.

"Now onto our gentlemen!" Eurydice squeals, quickly pulling out the first slip she encounters in the bowl, ripping it open twice as fast.

"Kyle Felter!" Eurydice announces. At first, there is complete silence, you could hear a pin drop. Peacekeepers comb through the crowd, confused, until a small boy bursts from the thirteen year-old pen and beelines out of the square. He's soon grabbed by the collar of his shirt and dragged back to the stage, where a large Peacekeeper plops him onstage, a sniveling and shaken mess.

"May I present to you, the District 8 111th Hunger Games tributes, Adela Chambray and Kyle Felter!" Eurydice shouts happily, seemingly unfazed. Belle turns to me, speaking in a tense whisper.

"It's your first year. I'll take the boy."

 _..._

I knew this moment was going to come. The moment when Adela has to go off into this death match with nothing but the knowledge I instilled in her. At first, she was rather cold to me, but over time we mended and actually learned we had a lot in common. I strictly told Adela to avoid the bloodbath, and she promised me a thousand times she wouldn't. I think it's safe to say I can trust her. If she keeps her promise, she'll do just fine. Heck, she might even win, judging from her impressive score of 8. The Careers definitely took notice of this. I can only hope it doesn't place a target on Adela's back.

"I guess this is it." Adela says sadly, looking at the hovercraft that will transport her to this year's arena.

"I guess so, Chambray," I mumble, hugging her tightly until a Peacekeeper tells us to hurry up.

"I'm going to come home, okay? Don't be so sad." she tells me, letting go of my hand.

"Please, please be careful," I say desperately, "avoid the bloodbath." I give her a weary look, trying to keep my composure.

"I will, Incy." Adela states, in a calm voice. She smiles weakly at me before turning around and bravely stomping off into the aircraft, which lifts her inside, where she'll receive her tracker for the arena. I hang my head as I walk back inside, heading for the Control Center, where I will watch these terrible Games.

...

I can see Adela rising up thanks to a unknown camera, she's not shaking. She's staying calm. Euphoria gathers in my stomach as I convince myself that my very first tribute might actually make it far.

But I gasped in horror as I saw Adela rise onto a dark grey, rocky cliff. Volcanoes loom in the background, and giant dragons circle the area, creating ominous shadows above the Horn, all under a fiery sky. I almost want to throw up in this Control Center in front of everybody just so they know how scared I am. Arista, the One Mentor, eyes me deviously as her tribute, Antoinette, is one platform away from Adela. I knew how this was going to end right before it started.

Poor Adela obeyed me until the very end, even when Antoinette lobbed off her head like a soft fruit as she tried to escape the opening slaughter. I collapse in my chair, distraught, as Adela's status on the giant screen on the wall reads dead. She placed 21st. I rushed back into my bedroom upstairs before anyone could stop me, collapsing into my room and locking the door.

I was in my dark sanctuary for days until Belle had the will to check on me. I don't think I've eaten in days yet my stomach is an empty pit. She cracks open the door to tell me to eat something, predictably.

"No," I groan, wrapping myself in my sheets. Belle opens the black curtain blocking the light from my room, informing me Kyle has made it to the Top 8.

"He has?" I ask feebly, feeling a little guilty for ignoring him the entire Pre-Games.

"Yes, Incy," she says reassuringly, shoving the blankets off of me.

"Kyle is in the arena with some outliers and only two injured Careers. He has a chance." Belle explains. I perk up, suddenly feeling obligated. Even if I neglected this particular tribute now doesn't mean I can't help him now.

"Okay," I say, getting up. "I'll help you get enough sponsor money for when he needs it. I do want someone like Kyle to come back."

"He's actually kind of sweet. Poor boy lost both his parents in a factory explosion. The least we can do for him is bring him home." she says, exasperated. I'm a little embarrassed Belle, being the talented Mentor she is, brought her kid to the Top 8 while mine died in the bloodbath. I guess I can't count too much on beginner's luck.

...

Now it's Day 17. The numbers have been shaven down to four, with the tributes being Ryder Bristen from 4, Kleo Marcella from 5, Janalyn Persoff from 7, and Kyle. I don't think I've ever been more excited in my life. Kyle Felter isn't my tribute but I'm helping Belle gather money for him. He is currently unarmed, so if we can just sponsor him a knife, he at least has a chance to defend himself. Harsh fires are drawing the tributes together, and Belle and I grin in joy as we just gain enough money to prepare to press the button to send Kyle his gift.

Sure enough, the parachute rains down by the time all the tributes have stumbled back to the Cornucopia. Kyle looks in relief as he notices his gift flow down to him as the others fight.

But by the time it reaches his hands, both girls have fallen at the hands of half-insane Ryder. I break down sobbing as the Fish boy sends a knife hurling into his throat, causing him to drop his gift onto the ground. After that I was told I simply fainted, but I think it's more like the fact that I died a little inside. Kyle placed 2nd. Freaking 2nd! Thank goodness we can go home now, because home is exactly where I don't think I'll be leaving for a while. All I have to look forward to for next year is a chance to strangle his crazy Four boy to death.

 _~End~_

* * *

 **Congratulations, you have reached the end of Royal Blood. I know this "epilogue" chapter was strange but I liked writing it. It was interesting to go into the mysterious 111th Games which some of you have been wondering about. Please review even thought this chapter seems unimportant. I want to hear your thoughts. :) All that's left is to begin the 112th! Thank you for reading! See ya there!**

 **-Maia**


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